Loving the Maou: A Soldier's Handbook
by Striped Neko
Summary: This is a series of small one-shots and short fics that are ConYuu in nature and may or may not fall in chronological order. While there may be other pairings from time to time, the main focus of each will be, always, ConYuu!
1. Chapter 1

_OK, this is just a series of ConYuu one shots and short fics. I'm writing these in between chapters of Return to Me, and they are just a little bit of fun, really. If you'd like to comment or review, I'll be sure to answer as soon as I can, but bear with me as the semester is really becoming tedious! I think that each ficlet will begin with an excerpt from this fictional handbook, and hopefully many will be funny, though, somehow, this one turned out a little darker than I thought it would. Anyway…hope you like it! See you at the bottom of the page…_

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**Loving the Maou: A Soldier's Handbook**

…_If you've ever dared to love above your station in life, if you've ever longed for the affection of one man in secret, devoted your life to him, and promised you would never leave his side, then this handbook is for you. Falling in love is simple, staying there and claiming your rightful place? That takes a little more effort. However, if you follow the guidelines in this book, you may just find yourself on the receiving end of that slap you've been dreaming about. Just remember, it takes more than a heart to love, it takes dedication, forgiveness, and if you have an awful sense of humor…well, it might just work to your advantage…_

_Taken from the forward to Loving the Maou: A Soldier's Handbook._

**Part One: The Inscrutable Smile, or, Every Maou Loves a Mysterious Man**

Yuuri had no idea where it was that Conrad went every night. For months, though, his dashing knight worked with him in his office until it was time to retire, walked him to his room, and parted from him leaving the Maou with the image of his quixotic smile and a gentle touch on the arm. Surreptitious inquiry had yielded nothing from the man himself, so, Yuuri had interrogated his advisors, instead.

Gwendal had nothing substantive to offer considering the situation. He merely looked at the Maou and blinked, twice, when Yuuri asked him if he knew of Conrad's nocturnal habits. "I do not make it a habit to follow my younger siblings, Heika."

"Well, it's not like I'm a stalker," Yuuri had muttered, then turned back to his work. Gwendal, obviously, was not a fountain of information on this subject.

His investigation took him to Gunter next. His beautiful adjutant, though he had smiled and vowed to wait for a thousand nights if necessary to discover the information Yuuri required, proved to be just as lacking in information as his general. Still, behind those lovely violet eyes, Yuuri thought he saw a spark of humor.

_Asking Wolfram_…? Well, Yuuri was certain that idea would net him nothing more than a bruise or two—and quite possibly an elbow to the head.

Yuuri couldn't ask any of the maids, or else the information would go straight back to Conrad. Yozak was out of the castle on assignment, and Anissina would probably want his assistance with an experiment in return for any information she might have to offer. So, the young king determined he would follow Conrad himself.

One summer evening, long after Wolfram was asleep, Yuuri slipped out of bed and padded, barefooted, through the halls of Blood Pledge Castle. When he came to the main staircase, he regretted his decision. Second thoughts lay heavy on his heart—after all, following someone really was pretty sneaky and what if whatever it was that Conrad was doing was private and personal? He had nearly decided to return to his own room, almost vowing to drop his curious investigation, until he caught sight of his Nazukeoya. Conrad was walking through the courtyard—Yuuri could see him through the great windows flanking the doors. Conrad was strolling, casually, and nothing about his posture seemed furtive, so, Yuuri hurried down the steps and tried, as cautiously as possible, to shadow his soldier.

The Maou had no idea what he would find once he actually saw Conrad's final destination. Jealousy bubbled in his heart as he considered the possibilities. What if his knight was going to meet a lover? What if he was indulging in some activity that he judged too adult to share with the young king? Would there be kissing involved? Yuuri shook his head. It was no use allowing his thoughts to take that path. He had committed himself now, and even thought a slight sense of guilt nibbled at the edges of his conscience, he was still going to go through with it. _Maybe I've been hanging around with Wolfram a little too much_, he thought.

Still, he followed, even when he saw, in the distance, Murata appear from the shadows at the edge of the orchard. Murata…? _What did the Great Sage have to do with any of this_, Yuuri wondered.

Yuuri crept closer still, as the two men sat down on a bench beneath the spreading fruit trees.

"Were you able to get them?" Conrad asked.

"Yeah, it wasn't hard. I hope it's what you want?" The Sage replied.

He handed a small bundle to the soldier. Conrad opened the cloth and inspected the contents, but Yuuri was too far away to see what it was.

"These are perfect," Conrad said, taking Murata's hand and squeezing it. "I'll never really be able to thank you. Do you…I mean…would you like to…come with me?"

"I thought you'd never ask!"

Yuuri stayed rooted in his spot as his two friends stood and walked away, not toward the castle, but toward the old guest quarters. He didn't want to think about that. He didn't want to know why they would go there—a place screaming privacy and secrets. Turning on his bare heel, Yuuri fled back to the castle, tears streaming from his eyes. He didn't stop, even when he cut his foot on a rock. Instead, he simply slowed, until he was limping, leaving small, bloody prints on the ground and hallways. He went directly to his private bath and cleaned up as best he could, then wrapped his foot in a makeshift bandage—a towel pressed into service in place of gauze. Before he went to his office, where he later fell asleep in his chair, he carefully went through the castle with a damp rag and wiped away the crimson evidence of his nocturnal observations, not so much because he was afraid of being discovered, but more because he felt guilty that anyone should have to clean up after his own blazing stupidity.

The next days passed slowly as Yuuri tried to adjust to what he now understood was his own breaking heart. He hadn't noticed before, probably because he was stuck in some private paradise in his mind, but Conrad and the Great Sage were often together. He wondered when that happened and why he hadn't noticed it before. He shouldn't be so upset, he reasoned. He had no right to be jealous when it came to either Murata or Conrad and the choices they made. He was, after all, an engaged young man—regardless of his own feelings about the matter. If his hesitancy and ambivalence had cost him the chance at happiness he so wanted with one tall, incredibly handsome, absolutely perfect soldier then…he had justly reaped what he had sown.

The Maou's limp, physical proof of what rewards await a sneaking man, worsened before the week was out. The day after his starlit sojourn, Yuuri had only been slightly bothered by the injury—even going for his morning run with Conrad, though he hadn't said anything of substance to the clearly concerned soldier. The day following, he put less pressure on his foot, and the swelling had increased. On the third day, he remained in his room. Honestly, he had stayed more because he really didn't want to see any more cautious looks sent his way, or, witness a tête-à-tête between Conrad and Murata—like the one he'd interrupted accidentally the day before. On the fourth day, Gunter had finally invaded his room and demanded to see the Maou's oozing pedal extremity.

"Heika!" Gunter had cried, his eyes filling with tears and concern in equal measure. "You're injured and this gash is infected. When did this happen?"

"I didn't want to trouble anyone," Yuuri had replied, and it was true. He also hadn't wanted to admit what he'd been doing to gain such an injury in the first place.

Gunter's emotional reaction to the King's purulent wound set the castle in motion. Gwendal arrived first, taking one look at the situation, and promptly sent for Gisela. He crossed his arms over his chest and proceeded to lecture the Maou, in stern tones, about the young ruler's responsibility to maintain his personal health for the good of then country. Murata and Gisela were the next to enter the room. Apparently the Sage had been consulting the healer for a tiny puncture wound he'd suffered in the pad of his thumb. His face was carefully blank, and Yuuri noticed that his friend had taken a position near the windows—making the lenses of his spectacles reflect oddly so that his eyes, and therefore his expression, were hidden. Wolfram and Greta flew in after that, shouting and crying respectively, until Yuuri quietly reassured them that he was fine, and asking Gisela to confirm for Greta that his foot wouldn't have to be amputated. Anissina turned up, offering the king solace in the form of a maryoku-powered foot bath, which Gunter immediately offered to power—regardless of how much of the adjutant's personal power would be lost. Yuuri gave up, then, and turned his face into the pillow, trying not to cry out as his wound was lanced and the accumulated pus and blood began to drain out.

"I wish you had come to me sooner, Heika," Gisela said, her voice gentle. "This must have caused you great pain."

"You have no idea," he whispered, his voice muffled by goose-feathers.

After the small procedure was finished, and the incident discussed until everyone had had his or her say, Yuuri finally made a small request for privacy. The tears he tried to hold in, for Greta's sake, were burning the backs of his eyes, and he just wanted a few minutes to collect himself. Still debating the issue, the other occupants of the room filed out, Murata stopping long enough to give Yuuri a measuring look, before he, too, left. As the door shut, Yuuri let out the pent up breath he'd been holding and allowed the tears to fall.

"Heika. What can I do?"

Yuuri looked up, furiously wiping his eyes. He hadn't even seen Conrad arrive, much less realized the knight was still in the room. The soldier was standing, half-eclipsed by the large bookcase on the far wall. His expression was somber, and obviously pained. Yuuri felt the guilt wash over him again.

"I'm all right, Conrad," he said, mustering a smile. "It did hurt a bit more than I thought it would."

"How did you injure yourself, Heika?" Conrad's voice was devoid of any reproach. He only sounded slightly curious, and very concerned.

"I just stepped on something, that's all. I ignored it. My fault entirely. However, nothing to worry about."

"May I bring you anything, Heika?"

Yuuri hated the man's formal tone, but, he took a deep breath and made himself bite his tongue. He was no longer going to whine about the choices Conrad made—even if he chose Yuuri's title over his name, even if he…chose someone else to love. Yuuri closed his eyes. How many years had it been? How long had he kept the man tied to his side, demanding every ounce of his attention and time? Had he, Yuuri, been the cause of heartbreak or disappointment in Conrad's recent past? Had he, Yuuri, prevented the proud man from pursuing any personal goals because he had so selfishly demanded the soldier always be by his side? Well, no more. Shibuya Yuuri was a grown man and he wouldn't be a millstone around this wonderful man's neck anymore.

"Conrad…?"

"Yes, Heika?"

Yuuri took a deep breath. "I know it seems a strange time, but I just want you to know…if there's something you want—anything you want to do, or anyplace you want to go, anything at all—I'll grant your request. No matter what it is. You've devoted your life to me, without respect to your own life at all. I just want you to know that you don't have to look after me anymore, Conrad. You can have your own life."

"Heika!" The older man gasped, the expression of shock plain on his handsome features. "Are you…dismissing me?"

Yuuri shook his head. "No, I don't mean it like that. I just want you to be happy."

"Heika," Conrad's voice cracked. He cleared his throat and began again. "Yuuri, I assure you I am very content right here. Please, don't worry for me. I am right where I want to be."

The Maou nodded, hesitating to press the issue further. Besides, he reasoned, Murata was here, so why wouldn't Conrad want to be close by.

"Heika," Conrad whispered, taking a few steps closer to the bed. "Please, is there nothing I can do?"

"Unfortunately, you can't snap your fingers and solve my stupidity, Conrad." Yuuri laughed, the sound bitter even in his own ears. "Don't worry about it, I'll be fine. I'm just tired and my foot hurts."

"Would you like to rest?"

Yuuri settled down in his bed. "Yes, I guess that would be a good idea. Gisela said I have to stay off my foot for a few days now."

The soldier nodded. "Well, if there's nothing else, then…Heika?"

"No, I'm fine, Conrad. Go on. I'm sure there are places you need to be."

Yuuri kept his head still, refusing to allow himself the masochistic pleasure of watching Conrad leave the room. He had a pretty good idea what would happen now: Conrad would go to Murata and discuss just how Yuuri had managed to injure himself, and, once again, he would be selfishly inserting himself into Conrad's life. Really, he just had to grow up.

It was a week before Gisela allowed Yuuri to leave his room. It took another three days before Gunter could be convinced that he really did _NOT_ have to carry the Maou everywhere from morning til night. And it took exactly one day after that for Conrad to arrive in his office—when Yuuri was, blessedly, alone.

"Is there something I can do for you, Conrad?" Yuuri asked, welcoming his soldier into the room. The week alone had given him a lot of time, alone, to consider what was happening, and while he couldn't be described as anything close to indifferent to the situation, Yuuri's heart wouldn't allow him to remain so self-centered that he would risk losing Conrad's friendship.

"Yes, Heika. I would like to ask you a question if I may?"

Yuuri nodded, doing his best not to see how very well Conrad looked, standing as he was, in the morning light that streamed through the windows. He made sure not to stare at the soldier's beautiful eyes, his handsome lips. He tried not to blush as he felt the magnetic pull of Conrad's very being that never failed to set his heart pounding. This man, this brave, valiant…sexy man was not meant for him, so it was best to keep his eyes trained on a point just above the man's right shoulder.

"Have I done something to displease you?"

Yuuri opened his mouth, then snapped it shut. Displease? What a thing to ask. Of course he was displeased, now that he finally understood how he felt about the older man, but none of it was Conrad's fault.

"Why would you ask me that? Of course not."

"I have the sense that you're avoiding me, Heika."

The boy shook his head quickly and stood up. Limping still, he hobbled around his desk until he was face to face with the now hesitant man. Yuuri put his arms around Conrad's waist and rested his cheek against his chest. "I am not avoiding you and I'm not angry. I'm trying to be an adult here, Conrad, and you're not helping me, you know?"

He felt the twitch of his soldier's arms as Conrad carefully embraced him, his touch respectful but not…intimate. Yuuri knew he shouldn't want that, but he couldn't help it.

"I don't understand what you mean," Conrad said, his voice hushed. "What do you mean by adult?"

Yuuri couldn't help it. The tears just began to slip across his lashes, even if slowly. "I…I have been so stupid and selfish. I just hope you'll forgive me."

"Yuuri!" Conrad's breath huffed against his hair. "What are you talking about?"

"You know how I cut my foot? I was following you!" Yuuri pulled back and stared up into Conrad's eyes. The soldier's expression was easy to read—complete bewilderment. "You've been disappearing every night for months, and I was curious, so I followed you. I know it was wrong, and I'm really sorry. I saw when you met Murata, and I felt like such an idiot. You two walked toward the guest house and I ran back here before I could make a giant fool of myself, and ended up cutting my foot on a rock. So, it's not you, all right? It's me! I'm the idiot and you're the one who should be displeased."

Silence stretched between them until Conrad made a sound in his throat that Yuuri thought might have been from frustration, then he found himself pressed tightly against his knight's chest.

"Yuuri…did you think that the Great Sage and I…I can't even say it. But is that what you were trying to tell me when you told me I could have anything I want?"

"Sort of," Yuuri said, sniffling. "But it's not just that. I realized, too, that I've caused you to miss a lot. Maybe there are things you want to do, places you want to see, or people you want to be with. I've always assumed we'd be together, Conrad, and I never thought about anything else. I never thought of the future without seeing you right beside me. I've been really selfish and I'm sorry."

"Yuuri," Conrad whispered, stepping back and cradling Yuuri's cheeks in his hands. He turned the King's head until Yuuri was staring into his warm, cinnamon-colored eyes. "Yuuri, Yuuri! I am right where I want to be, I promise. I will never leave your side, I vowed that and I do not intend to break it. All I _want_ to do is see you happy. The only place I _want_ to go is wherever you are. _The only person I want to be with is you_. Do you…Do you want to see where I've been going and what I've been doing all these nights?"

Yuuri shook his head, still breathless from the passion he heard in Conrad's words. "I…I don't want you to feel like you have to explain yourself."

"Come with me, Yuuri," Conrad whispered, a new note in his voice. One that Yuuri didn't quite understand on the surface, but the pounding of his heart made him think he _ought_ to know what it meant.

Unable to do anything but follow, Yuuri allowed Conrad to take his hand and lead him from his office. The Maou was surprised when they didn't head toward the Guest House, but turned to the right, and Yuuri soon found himself facing Conrad's door. When the soldier invited him into the room, Yuuri came in cautiously. The room looked the same as it always did, except for something new hanging on the usually bare walls.

"What is it…?" Yuuri murmured, stepping closer for a better look. "It's…a quilt?"

Conrad nodded. "I've been working on it for months. I intended to give it to you for Christmas this year."

"You made this!" Yuuri turned, staring at Conrad in wonder. "And…this fabric, and these are…pictures? Did Murata help you with this?"

The quilt was huge, large enough for Yuuri's bed in the royal chamber. The fabrics were familiar to him, and what was most surprising were the photographs. He recognized them. There were pictures from his childhood, and his family, as well as pictures of Shin Makoku—including shots of Gwendal, Gunter, and even Wolfram and Greta. There were others, too, and in the center, a photograph of all of them together, Conrad beside him, in the center. The photos had been transferred to fabric, and then lovingly made into this quilt.

"I had no idea you knew how to do this!" Yuuri said, amazed.

To his shock, Conrad was blushing, the pink on his cheeks brightening his eyes. "Gwendal knits, and Wolfram paints, but I learned to quilt when I was just a boy. I wasn't trying to be…duplicitous, Heika. I just wanted to surprise you."

"It's Yuuri," the Maou said, running his fingers over the large bed covering. "I can't believe you made this for me. I'm…I'm so embarrassed."

He wasn't sure when Conrad moved, but he felt the taller man's arms around his waist and could feel his breath warm against his ear. "Don't be embarrassed, Yuuri. I didn't mean to make you jealous."

Yuuri shivered, and opened his mouth to deny the statement, but…he couldn't. "I was jealous," he said softly. "I thought I'd lost you."

"Never going to happen," Conrad said, his mouth closer to Yuuri's ear. "You'll never lose me."

Yuuri closed his hands over Conrad's, his fingers brushing against the soldier's warm skin. "Promise?" he asked.

"Promise," Conrad replied. "Yuuri, did you mean what you said, though—in your chamber? Will you really grant me any request?"

The Maou nodded, leaning back against Conrad's chest, still admiring the beautiful quilt that must have taken the man countless hours to make.

"Then, please, Heika—never doubt my feelings for you. There is only one man in my heart, one person that I love."

Yuuri turned in Conrad's arms and stared up into the soldier's eyes. For a moment, a too brief moment, he saw emotions swirling in their amber depths—emotions he recognized and returned. Now wasn't the time for acknowledgements, or declarations. There was much to be settled before then. But, there was still the promise, and the patient understanding of the two that didn't need to be verbalized.

"I trust you, Conrad," The Maou said, softly. "I love your present. I could never ask for anything better, and I can't tell you how much it means to me."

"I'm very glad to hear it, Yuuri." Conrad squeezed him a little tighter.

Shibuya Yuuri, twenty-seventh Maou of Shin Makoku realized that they both knew they were no longer talking about the quilt.

…_And life in Blood Pledge Castle was about to become just a bit more complicated…_

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_So, this is the first one shot of this continuing project. I'll try to post these in between updates of Return to Me. This one, though, I wanted to put up first. The new fic starts tomorrow, Thursday. Thanks so much for reading, and reviews and comments are always welcome! Don't be surprised, though, if the scenes are disjointed in this one—they won't necessarily be in chronological order. I'll be seeing you…SN_


	2. Chapter 2

So, ficlet number two

_So, ficlet number two. Thank you so much everyone who read and reviewed the first installment of this piece, I was so flattered! This next one is really short and takes place long before the first one…now, who was it again that asked for a kiss…? Hehehe. Just some fluff before work, and I'll see you all at the bottom of the page…_

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**Loving the Maou: A Soldier's Handbook**

_One of the principle disadvantages of loving a younger Maou is the endless (well, seemingly endless) wait one must endure while the aforementioned king grows up, matures, and finally recognizes his undying love for you. However, a savvy soldier will also understand that this situation also presents him with the opportunity for many "Firsts…" There is the first dance, the first sword practice, the first adventure, and, of course, the first kiss…_

_Taken from chapter one of Loving the Maou: A Soldier's Handbook._

**Part Two: Lips like Sugar**

It was the audible sigh that first alerted Conrad to the Maou's present distress. While the young man had been quiet most of the day, he hadn't appeared to be overtly unhappy. Still, during their morning exercise, Yuuri-heika hadn't said very much. He'd even sent Conrad several wan smiles in response to some of his more terrible jokes as opposed to groaning and smacking his forehead. Later, during sword practice, Yuuri-heika had shown a great deal of concentration, throwing himself into the activity with such fervor that Conrad had been surprised. The look he'd exchanged with Yozak, the King's sparring partner, told him that the cheerful spy had noticed the change as well.

But, it was that sound—that confused, slightly sad sound that sent all of Conrad's senses into overdrive, and called up every protective instinct the soldier had when it came to his king.

They were in the library, Conrad having stayed to observe Yuuri's afternoon lessons with Gunter, and the young Maou was staring out the window, his chin resting on the palm of his hand, his elbow propped on the library table. Gunter had left them for a few moments, to get tea. Conrad hadn't thought very much about that detail at first, but as he considered Yuuri-heika's troubled expression, he realized his former tutor was giving him time alone with the king—else he would have just rang for tea as usual.

"Girls are weird."

The Maou's pronouncement caused Conrad to bite the inside of his lip in an effort not to laugh. He supposed this universal truth was something every sixteen year old boy had to discover for himself.

"What makes you say that, Heika?" he asked.

The king shrugged, and returned his attention to the rain drops that were now making tracks on the window pane. While the day had begun bright and sunny, an afternoon shower had thickened the air. Conrad couldn't help but notice the ends of the Maou's hair curled just at the tips with the humidity.

"It's Yuuri," the boy said softly, not even bothering with the rest of the standard correction. "And something happened at school this week that was…unusual."

"Would you like to talk about it, Yuuri?"

The boy shook his head, still staring out the window, then suddenly he turned in his chair and faced his startled soldier. "I went to the arcade with Murata, and we were playing some games after school. While we were there, we saw a few people we knew, and some girls who go to the cram school up the street. So, we all ended up going to ice cream together, and everything was fine, but this one girl—and I've known her almost all my life—kept talking to me, which was fine at first, and then she sat next to me, and I didn't mind that, but when we were getting ready to leave, she sort of hinted that she was nervous to walk home alone and her friends were going the other way—across town. So, I offered to walk with her because she lives close to my house, you see?"

Conrad nodded, being careful to keep his expression neutral. He was pretty sure he knew where this was headed, but what surprised him was the feeling of disappointment that was slowly creeping into his heart.

"She's really pretty," Yuuri continued, toying with the cover of his book now. "And she's smart and funny, too. I was having a really nice time, walking with her and everything. And it was weird, too, because it's like I said, I've known her for practically forever—not as long as I've known you, of course, but a really long time, but, this was the first time I noticed that she was really pretty, you know what I mean, _really pretty_?"

The soldier nodded, still sympathetic to his king's distress and filing away the information for future consideration. So, the Maou was interested in girls. It was to be expected, and Conrad knew he shouldn't feel…let down. But he did.

"So, we got back to her house, and stopped to talk for a minute by the front gate. Then, and I wasn't really expecting it, she leaned forward and kissed me—no warning or anything! I mean, there I was talking about movies and suddenly her lips were on mine. I didn't know what to do, so I sort of stood there, shocked. She pulled away, and then this is what I don't understand…_she got mad_! She _yelled_ at me and told me I kiss like a dead fish. Well, it's not like I _asked_ her to kiss me, and I didn't even _want to_, she's pretty and all, but I don't like her like that, and it's not my fault I don't know how to kiss right, I mean, I'm sixteen years old and _SHORI_ is my older brother! All I do is go to school, play baseball, and when I'm home he has the older-brother-complex from hell, and when I'm not there, I'm here trying to be the king, and Wolfram is always after me, but he never attacks me with his mouth or anything, and I thought first kisses were supposed to be special, and it's not my fault that she wanted me to be hers, and if I knew she did I wouldn't have walked her home, because that's just weird, and I want my first kiss to be special, so I would guess she did too—"

Conrad stopped the avalanche of the Maou's words with his lips. The boy went rigid, and the soldier could almost feel the pounding of his heart. Slowly, gently, he brought his hands up to frame the young king's face, testing for any signs of resistance. Instead, Yuuri's fingers curled around his upper arms and pressed in lightly. Taking that as a sign to continue, Conrad moved his head a bit to the right, pleased when Yuuri's eyes fluttered closed and he tilted his head just to left. At least his instincts knew how to give the older man better access.

The kiss wasn't demanding, or too intense. The soldier only used his lips, gently moving them over Yuuri's, his heart swelling with unfamiliar happiness as the younger man's mouth clung to his, mirroring his movements. As he began to pull away, the Maou swayed forward, holding the contact between them a little longer. He tasted sweet, like ripe summer fruit and his lips were warm, like sunshine. Conrad broke the kiss just as slowly, nuzzling against Yuuri's lips with little nudges and pecks until he pulled back completely. He stared down into the boy's flushed face, charmed by the sight of Yuuri's dark lashes still fluttering against his tan skin. As the Maou opened his eyes, his expression of…confused happiness made Conrad's heart pound a little harder.

"First kisses should be special, Heika," Conrad said quietly. "And they are best shared with someone important. All it takes is a little practice, but I assure you, there is nothing fish-like about you."

"It's Yuuri," the boy whispered, reaching up to touch his lips with his fingers, gently exploring them as though he had never noticed them before.

"Very well, Yuuri." Conrad smoothed the young man's hair away from his brow. "Are you all right?"

"Uh huh."

The library door began to swing open slowly, and Conrad stood—neither quickly nor slowly, and sent Yuuri one more smile. "Gunter has returned with tea, and I must get to work myself. Shall I come back for you when you're finished here, Yuuri? We can have a game of catch if you like?"

"Uh huh," the Maou repeated, his cheeks still dusky pink.

Conrad left the room, entrusting the safety of the Maou to his tutor, and walked with slightly unsteady steps toward his own room. He had work to do, of course, but first he needed to gain control of his galloping heart. Sometimes, he really was a selfish man, and he knew it. The sudden desire to be Yuuri's first kiss—to press himself indelibly into the young king's memory in that coveted role had been too much temptation to resist. Calming himself, he tried to make himself regret taking advantage of the situation, but he just couldn't. There was something about the way Yuuri's fingers had gripped his arms, and the shy questions the boy had asked silently, communicating only with his lips that gave the soldier reason to hope. And, he decided, it had been far too many years since he'd allowed himself that precious feeling. Hope. It was too soon, of course, to think of anything beyond that one simple feeling. Yuuri had miles and years to go before he might be ready to allow Conrad to touch him in that way again—if he ever did at all.

_But,_ the soldier reasoned, reaching up to touch his fingers to his own lips, _hope was a rare commodity in Shin Makoku, and he intended to hold onto his with both hands._

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_Ok, so there's this version of Yuuri's first kiss. I promised updates between Chaps of Return to Me, so this is what I have this week. I couldn't help it, really, because we were discussing first kisses Monday at school, and I've been thinking of this ever since! I hope you enjoyed it, and I'll be seeing you…_


	3. Chapter 3

_And here we are in the third installment of Loving the Maou. This one-shot takes a look at Yuuri and Conrad when they are both a little older, on the brink of establishing themselves as a couple. The main thought I had while writing this is that waiting is lovely, yes, but it's important not to let time slip away…_

**Loving the Maou: A Soldier's Handbook**

_A dedicated soldier supports his Maou in all the young man's endeavors. It is important to remember that as the ruler of a country, the King has many duties that require his attention, but it is in the small details that soldier can show his devotion. The quality that sets a loving soldier apart from all other potential suitors is his readiness to accept change at a moment's notice. Kings are tricky creatures and must be cared for with gentle patience and loving persistence. When you find yourself faced with a worried Maou, the best thing to do is ease his distress by whatever means available at the moment—even if that means using a hands-on approach…_

_Taken from chapter seven of Loving the Maou: A Soldier's Handbook._

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**Part Three: Threads of Silver and Gold**

Gwendal von Voltaire was no stranger to conflict. War had been, after all, his calling for many years, but the current power-struggle had him at his wit's end because this was not a battle between Shin Makoku and another country, but a civil war between his two brothers. It had been years since Yuuri-heika had finally ended his engagement, formally and irrevocably to his youngest brother, and since that time Wolfram had taken to exorcising his frustrations on Cheri-sama's middle child—whenever he was in residence at the castle. And the eldest of the brothers had had enough. So, he had orchestrated a meeting between the parties involved and now, including himself, four men sat around the conference table in his office—all of them silent, and speaking only for himself, he had a headache larger than the whole of Shin Makoku.

"Wolfram," he said, trying to start the dialogue once more. "If you have something to say, now is the time. If we plan to move on from this, then everyone should use this opportunity to say everything that needs to be said, because after we leave this room, this subject is closed forever and the two of you will clasp hands and be brothers again."

"I don't' have anything to say to either of them. Why should I listen to a couple of cheating bastards?"

"Wolfram! I don't care what you call me, but you won't speak about Yuuri-heika like that." Conrad's voice was hard, his expression implacable.

Gwendal sighed, frowning. Even though they were often compared to one another, he hated it when either of his brothers exhibited his own stubborn qualities. Conrad had yet to respond to any of Wolfram's temper tantrums, his only words coming whenever Wolfram said something negative about the Maou directly. The King, for his part, looked slightly ill.

"Yuuri-heika and I have never been intimate."

"Like that matters," Wolfram muttered, folding his arms over his chest.

"It is still an insult, Wolfram," Gwendal pointed out. "If the Maou wants—"

"I'm going to die."

The Maou's words silenced the room, and Gwendal knew his own expression must mirror his younger brother's obvious shock.

"Heika!" He said sharply. "What do you mean, are you ill?"

Yuuri-heika shook his head, his embarrassed smile easing the galloping of Gwendal's heart.

"I'm not sick, but…look." The Maou leaned over the table and pointed to the side of his head, just above his right ear, then he turned slightly and pointed to the side opposite.

"What exactly am I supposed to be seeing, Yuuri?" Wolfram growled. "This better not be a trick."

The Maou shook his head and his smile turned sad. "You see it, don't you, Conrad?"

Gwendal watched his middle brother. The younger half-mazoku nodded, his expression turning sad to match the Maou's. That strange union between them, that perfect understanding…Gwendal sighed inwardly. It would take a fool not to see the deep connection between the two men, and he wondered how his youngest brother had hoped to drive a wedge between that.

"It's been about a year now, hasn't it, Yuuri?" Conrad asked.

The young king nodded. "It's not just the silver hair at my temples. I feel it, too, in my knees and shoulders. I'm not as supple as I was, and sometimes, my joints ache when it's cold. It's nothing to worry about right now, but I think we all need to face the fact that I'm aging as any normal human would. I may carry Julia-san's soul, but my body was born and bred on earth. I may be half-mazoku, but, you know that the lifespan of the mazoku of earth is no greater than that of a human. I'm getting older, I'm almost thirty, Wolfram, and while that means nothing to you, it means that I'm well into my adulthood, and I'm tired of acting like I'm going to live forever. You have a future before you that I can't begin to imagine, so maybe fifty years, give or take, doesn't seem like very much to you, but it's my lifetime we're discussing here. I'm sorry for hurting you, Wolfram, I really am…but we're not in love, and it's been years, and I am no longer willing to wait for you to get over it. I know full-mazoku can hold grudges forever, but I don't have that kind of time. So, I want you to let it go now, so Conrad can move on, too."

"Yuuri," the young demon whispered, looking between the king and his oldest brother, as though Gwendal would be able to solve this problem. For his part, Gwendal stared at the king, concentrating, and then he saw it—the fine lines around his eyes, barely noticeable but present all the same, the changing hair, the strong, sharp masculine features that spoke of a man in the prime of his life. Had Yuuri-heika been a mazoku, or even a half-mazoku of Shin Makoku like Conrad, he would still look almost the same as he had when he first arrived in Shin Makoku. Gwendal blinked. He thought he had learned his lesson with Conrad's father, Dan Hiri, but, apparently he had missed the signs once again.

"If you have to hate anyone, Wolf," Yuuri-heika said softly, "then please hate me. Stop berating Conrad for a choice I made. I didn't even discuss it with him."

"I don't hate you, Yuuri," Wolfram said, his voice quiet and sober. "I just…I hate that you chose him over me."

"That's not fair," Gwendal said. "No one can help who he loves, and you should know that, Wolfram."

"Do you love him?" Wolfram asked his older brother. Finally, Gwendal thought, no we're getting somewhere.

"Yes," Conrad replied, simply, reaching over and covering the Maou's hand with his own.

"And all this time, you've been holding yourself back because of…me?" Wonder and disbelief were evident in Wolfram's voice.

"I love you, too, Wolfram. What should I have done? What would you have done in my place? You're my little brother."

Gwendal watched as Wolfram reached over the table and brushed at Conrad's hair. In the sunlight, the gold highlights in his brown hair shone brightly. "You're not getting any younger, either…brother."

"That's true." Conrad's expression didn't change. It was clear he wasn't concerned for himself.

"I don't understand," Yuuri-heika said, frowning.

"Your hair turns silvery when you age, Heika," Gwendal explained. "Conrad's will turn red-gold."

He watched as his middle brother laced his fingers with the Maou. "Wolfram, can you make peace now. Have you had your say?" Gwendal asked.

His younger brother hesitated.

"Life is too short, all life is too short, to continue to bear such a burden," Yuuri-heika said quietly. "I want to see you two be brothers again."

Wolfram was silent for a long time, his eyes closed. Gwendal folded his hands in front of him and waited.

"All right, Yuuri," Wolfram said finally. "All right. But only because you asked me."

"That's good enough for me," the Maou said, turning to Conrad.

His middle brother nodded. "I'm happy, Wolfram. I don't want to be estranged from you."

"I think we're finished here," Gwendal said, pushing back from the table and standing up. "Heika, I'm sure you and Conrad have much to discuss. Wolfram and I will be in the garden with Mother. Come with me, Wolfram."

Everyone stood, and Gwendal went to the door, opening it and allowing his youngest brother to pass in front of him. Just before he stepped out into the hall, he looked over his shoulder. Conrad had pulled the king close to his chest, resting his cheek against the top of the slightly shorter man's head. A ray of sun blazed through his window, falling on the couple, illuminating them with warm light. It was then that he could truly see it—the mingled silver and gold, the colors that would mellow and blend with time. He smiled, closing the door behind him. That was how he would always remember them, long after they were both gone, standing together, united, the way they were always meant to be.

* * *

_Ok, so…not a death-fic because I don't write those, but, I have always wondered about Yuuri's aging process. I know that time flexes while he's in Shin Makoku, seeming hardly to pass at all on Earth, but, he still exists and time still moves forward in a narrative fashion, but, if I get started I could go on about time-theory all night, so, I'll just leave it like this…it may not be totally fluffy, but…it makes me happy to think of Conrad and Yuuri growing old together. Thanks for reading and I'll be seeing you!_


	4. Chapter 4

_Ok, this is part 4…a little bit of fluff inspired by events at work. More specifically, by a surprise kiss. It's less serious than the last piece, but, sometimes I wonder…what would it be like for Conrad to show his jealousy, not overtly like Wolfram, but just a little bit. And I just want to send a quick hello and thank you to aida—thank you for your review. There was no link for me to reply directly, but I am really glad you're enjoying these. You are all very kind to send your reviews and I truly enjoy learning what you think! Ok, so, as usual, I don't own the Maou, etc. And I'll see you down at the bottom…_

* * *

**Loving the Maou: A Soldier's Handbook**

_A soldier brave enough to love the maou will have, from time to time, negative emotions with which to deal. This is to be expected, and must be handled carefully. It will be impossible to be perfectly understanding all the time, but a wise knight will remember that Kings, by nature, belong to the people—all of the people. However, if handled correctly, a soldier's love will be acknowledged and returned, even when the situation is unusual…_

_Taken from chapter three of Loving the Maou: A Soldier's Handbook._

**Part Four: Green eyes do not become him…**

"What's wrong, Conrad?" Yuuri asked, turning the page of his book.

He was presently snuggled against the man he loved, his back warm against the soldier's chest, as they sat on the large bed in Yuuri's guest quarters. This official state visit to small Shimaron had been successful so far, but Conrad had at some point during lunch, become very quiet and stayed that way. It was late afternoon now, and Yuuri was no longer patient enough to wait for his soldier to bring the subject up on his own.

"It's nothing, Heika. I'm all right."

"Really?" Yuuri asked, turning another page. "Because you just called me Heika, Nazukeoya—and you haven't done that in years, not in the privacy of our chambers. In fact, you only do that when you're upset."

Yuuri's body moved as Conrad sighed, deeply. He felt strong arms encircle him and he leaned back resting his head on the taller man's shoulder. "So, why don't you tell me what's bothering you."

"My own foolish imagination, Yuuri…and nothing more, I promise."

"It's about Sara, isn't it?" He flipped a page.

"I…" Conrad's voice faded. Apparently, he couldn't finish his sentence.

"Just because you're jealous doesn't mean you're Wolfram, Conrad. You don't have to hide how you're feeling with me. You know I'd never be unfaithful."

"I know that, Yuuri," Conrad said, quickly. He sighed again. "I just…don't like that man. And I think he…fondles you so freely just to annoy me sometimes!"

"He probably does." Yuuri agreed, closing his book, and turning in Conrad's arms so that he was facing the man he loved so much. "But, you want to know something?"

"What?"

Conrad was…pouting. Yuuri hadn't been able to see it before, but his soldier—the cool and perfect knight—was wearing the most adorable pout on his face that Yuuri had ever seen. Even after all this time, all the nights spent in each other's arms, and the days spent together—the sight of Conrad could still make his heart pound so loud that he was sure the entire castle must hear it.

"You have no reason to be jealous, Conrad." Yuuri leaned forward and rubbed his nose against his lover's. "It's you I love."

"I love you, Yuuri." Conrad's whisper was soft. "And…I really was jealous. I can't help it, even now, sometimes I think you'll find someone you want more than me."

"Then, why don't you show me what I'd be missing if I ever decided to stray…"

It wasn't often that Yuuri seduced his lover—usually Conrad kept that duty for himself, but on these rare occasions when even the bravest, most dashing knight of the realm needed reassurance, Yuuri was only too happy to remind the handsome soldier that there was only one person in his heart. As he came apart in Conrad's arms—melting beneath the taller man's passionate kisses and intimate touches, nearly fainting from breathlessness, he considered that perhaps a tiny hint of jealousy wasn't a bad thing, after all.

* * *

_I wanted something very short for this one—because in real life, these scenes don't have to drag out forever. This isn't even a one-shot as much as it is intended to be a glimpse into Conrad and Yuuri's already established relationship. I was going for as much impact with as few words as possible. I hope it worked. Thanks a lot for reading, everyone. I'll update this again after RTM. I'll be seeing you!_


	5. Chapter 5

_Ok, one-shot the fifth…I have the flu, my friends…a pretty nasty case of it, in fact, so I apologize for the slight delay in answering reviews and updating. I just can't seem to get out of bed…and, unlike Yuuri, there's no Conrad there to make it more interesting. Ah, well…here's chapter five, though, and thanks again, so very much, for your reviews…I have almost everything answered now, but I'm still behind. So, I'll post this now, by way of an apology for my delay, then get right back to my email! Thanks again, so very much, and I'll see you down at the bottom…_

* * *

**Loving the Maou: A Soldier's Handbook**

_Correspondence: To receive a personal letter from the king is a rare event. There is a reason why history hoards the personal documents of great mazoku, in order to later pick apart and study in exacting detail the words that rulers choose to address their loved ones. Maou's don't leave grocery lists, and a wise soldier will learn to read between the lines of any communiqué that comes his way, in order to see the real meaning behind the somewhat dry, boring language of State._

_Taken from chapter two of Loving the Maou: A Soldier's Handbook._

**Part Five: Dearest…**

It had been more than two weeks—sixteen days, exactly, not that he was counting or anything—since Conrad had kissed the Maou. The soldier sat behind his desk, staring at his hands, and taking no notice of his work, brooding over the mistake he had made. He really shouldn't have done it. He knew even as he bent his head and felt the first light brush of his lips against the Maou's that it was a mistake. Yuuri had been so upset, though—tears shining in his eyes—after yet another argument with Wolfram, that Conrad's first instinct had been to comfort the young man. He had meant it to be a peck. He had meant to simply press his mouth against the top of the king's head and embrace him, as he'd done countless times before to show his empathy and compassion for the young ruler's distress. But, just as he was moving, Yuuri had turned his face up and Conrad's lips had landed, instead, on the boy's soft, supple lips. He hadn't expected the rush of fire that coursed along his nerves, bringing his every sense to life, and before he knew what was happening, he'd pulled Yuuri close to his chest, slipped a strong hand into his hair, and was attacking the Maou's mouth with his lips in a kiss that revealed the hunger and passion he secretly harbored for his king. Yuuri's response was shocked surprise, he thought. At least at first. Then the younger man had answered him with shy, questioning movements of his own, their mingled caresses growing bolder and more daring as the moments passed. Conrad had no idea where it might have actually ended, considering his hands had been inside the Maou's shirt, stroking the smooth skin of his back and the king's nails were digging into Conrad's shoulders when the knock on the door interrupted them. When they broke apart—thanks to Gunter's ill-timed intrusion, which was followed quickly by a fuming Wolfram—Yuuri had looked at him with an expression that Conrad thought, at the time, was of wonder. Apparently, though, it was something else entirely, because he hadn't seen Yuuri at all since then, and the soldier was worried. If he could take the kiss back, he would. Nothing, not even that brief moment of perfect happiness, was worth losing his relationship with the one person he loved more than his own life. He would have gladly lived his entire life without touching the ruler, just so long as he could be at his side. And now, he'd ruined everything.

"Message for you, Taichou."

Conrad looked up to find Yozak in his door, holding a folded letter between his first and second fingers. The tall spy was grinning, leaning against the door jamb, and looking all together much too smug.

"And…what does it say?" Conrad asked. "Because I know you've read it."

"Nothing really. Just a note from the kiddo about some boring Maou business—treaty negotiations and such."

Conrad held out his hand, and Yozak sighed dramatically, clearly annoyed that his friend refused to be baited into a more satisfying response.

"Such a stick in the mud," Yozak muttered, handing over the letter. "I'm off to the pub tonight, if you want to join."

"Maybe," Conrad said, his voice reflecting the fact that his mind was elsewhere. "We'll see."

"I won't hold my breath." Yozak slapped Conrad on the shoulder, a congenial gesture and one meant, the soldier knew, to bolster his spirits.

When he was alone again, he opened the letter and began to read.

Conrad,

_Dearest, I_ think, to my heart at the moment are these plans I have for rebuilding the gallery. _Haven't been abl_e to sleep much because I'm so excited! _To see_ something like this happen would be good, don't _you_ think? _Since we_ have so much to talk about, and before Gwendal starts talking about how much it will cost—which means my idea gets _kissed_ goodbye—_I_ think we should have a meeting before we _miss_ this opportunity. _You_, _so much_ more than others, understand what I'm trying to achieve by saving these paintings. _I hope you don't regret it_—agreeing to help me with this, _because I've never felt so happy_ about an idea! _Can you_ gather together the plans we discussed, so you can _meet me_, Gwendal, and Gunter _in the library at noon_ tomorrow. Gwendal and Gunter are both out on a State visit to the city today, and Wolfram is in his studio painting—not to be disturbed. So, the meeting must be tomorrow, but _ALL__ my _instincts tell me that if we pitch this right, Gwendal will _love_ the idea, too, and agree to its importance, despite the cost.

Thanks,

_Yuuri._

Conrad stared at the strangely worded, relatively disjointed note. He knew very well that Yuuri was excited about the gallery project, but why he was worried about Gwendal's reaction was somewhat mysterious. As the Maou, all he need say is: I want this gallery for art preservation to be built. And it would be done. Still, Yuuri always wanted everyone to support his ideas not because he was the king, but because the ideas had merit in their own right. Conrad sighed. The tone of the letter however made one thing clear—Yuuri had decided to pretend that nothing had ever happened. His kiss, his love, was either meaningless or, even worse, _embarrassing_ to the king.

He looked at the note again, unable to keep from smiling slightly at the boy's hurried, sloppy script. Some words were clear, while others were slanted in a strange angle—nothing unusual for Yuuri, just more evidence that as his thoughts raced away from him, the young man's hand tried to keep up. Conrad had a sudden thought…he had forgotten that Gunter and Gwendal were meant to lunch in the city today, and that meant an awkward meal with just himself, Yuuri and Wolfram in attendance. He could do without that, and as much as he might want to see the king, no matter how painful it would be, he didn't think he could stomach watching his little brother assert his territorial rights.

Conrad twirled the note on his desktop, spinning the paper slowly. As he stared, thinking more about how to make it through the day than what he was doing, his eye caught something in the words on the page…a sort of pattern was emerging from Yuuri-heika's scrawled letters. He picked up the note again, biting his lip, almost certain he was making it up—that his imagination was supplying him with just what he wanted to see most. Still…maybe it wasn't….

Conrad grabbed his pen and started to write down phrases from Yuuri's letter that jumped out…he chose the words that slanted, as only some of them did, when he was finished, he stared down at what he had written.

_Dearest,_

_I haven't been able to see you since we kissed. I miss you so much. I hope you don't regret it because I've never felt so happy. Can you meet me in the library at noon. ALL my love. Yuuri._

Conrad looked at the window, it was nearly mid-day now. He stopped only long enough to burn the paper he had written on, then he snatched up the Maou's note and headed to the library. When he opened the door, the first thing he saw was Yuuri, standing at the window, his arms crossed over his chest. Conrad took a deep breath and came into the room, fully, closing the door behind him and flipping the lock.

"Am…am I late?" he asked, unsure of how to begin.

The Maou shook his head, a smile breaking over his features that warmed Conrad's heart in a way the sun in the sky never could. "You're perfect," the young man said softly. "You're just perfect."

"Then…I wasn't just seeing things?" he asked.

"Only what's really there. Did you mean it, Conrad?" The Maou blushed brightly. "Did you mean it when you kissed me?"

The note fell from Conrad's fingers, forgotten in his haste to gather the man he loved into his arms and recklessly repeat the actions of two weeks before. Could anything ever feel as good as this, he wondered. Yuuri was in his arms, responding to his kisses and whispering love words that made them both blush. Shoving all thoughts of future difficulties from his mind, Conrad allowed himself this moment to simply bask in the feeling of being loved. Wolfram, the court, and everything after could all be handled in its turn, but for now, Yuuri was looking at him with those half-lidded, sultry black eyes and Conrad had better things to do.

* * *

_Well, there it is…Thursday morning fluffiness before the next update of RTM. I'm going to bed for a little while longer before getting started again. I'm sorry, really, for my delays. Thank you for reading and for your reviews, I will respond, but I know I'm behind. It's this flu—I'm having trouble shaking it. Take care everyone, and I'll be seeing you!_


	6. Chapter 6

_And here is the 6__th__ installment of Loving the Maou. I must thank Scythe for the inspiration on this one…I hope you enjoy!_

* * *

**Loving the Maou: A Soldier's Handbook**

_Alcohol: There is only one thing that should be said concerning this particular subject. Alcohol and Maous do not mix._

_Taken from chapter ten of Loving the Maou: A Soldier's Handbook._

When he arrived via the bath-route back to Shin Makoku, Yuuri was confused as to how, exactly, he'd been transported. Then again, he was also confused as to how he'd wound up dressed in a glittering pink dress with little matching cat ears. Something about a costume party bounced around in his muddled brain, but he couldn't remember much more than that. He seemed to recall something about Shori, as well, but it was fuzzy.

"Heika?"

Rolling his neck slowly, Yuuri tried to maintain the precarious position of his stomach—which currently threatened to upend at any moment, and blinked. Conrad was seated in the bath, his brown hair obscured by a crown of suds.

"Ish…Yuu…Yuuri, Conrad. Why are you washing your…hair?"

"I usually wash my hair when I bathe, Yuuri."

"That makes sense." Yuuri pushed himself up, with exaggerated care, until he was seated in the bath, and spent a few moments slapping at the skirts of the gown which ballooned up in the water. "You're a sensible sort of guy."

"Thank you…I think." Conrad smiled at him. Well, at least one of the Conrads he could see smiled.

"Yuuri…have you been…drinking?"

The Maou pinched his forefinger and thumb together and leaned forward to whisper, in what he thought was a conspiratorial voice, "Jus' a lil bit."

"Does that also explain the dress and the ears?"

"Wen' ta coshtume party."

Yuuri watched as Conrad dipped below the surface of the water and rinsed his hair. The soldier came above the surface again, smiled once, and then suggested they get out of the water.

"But I'll see you naked, Conrad!"

"I'm not really worried about that at the moment, Heika. But if it makes you feel any better you can close your eyes until I put a towel on."

"Ish Yuuri!" Yuuri hiccupped, then slapped at his skirts again—they were poofing up with trapped air and almost preventing him from seeing his favorite person.

"When I close my eyes, the room spins," he admitted on a whisper.

"All right, Yuuri," Conrad's voice was kind and gentle as always. "Then just don't look."

Before Yuuri could say anything else, Conrad was out of the water. He only peeked twice, but those glimpses provided several tantalizing images to the king. Conrad's back and his thigh were, without doubt, drunk or sober, works of art. He floundered a little when the tall soldier tried to pull him out of the water, feeling suddenly heavy and out of balance. He nearly pulled them both back into the bath, but Conrad caught him against his chest and held him close.

"That wet dress must weigh a drakken," Conrad said under his breath. Yuuri paused, trying to remember the conversion between drakkens and kilograms. He was so confounded by the puzzle that he didn't resist when Conrad stripped him out of his wet dress and wrapped him in a large, fluffy towel.

Whether it was a combination of the trip through the water, the nachos he had eaten earlier, or the sips of the Shori Volcano Cocktail he had taken throughout the party—the alcohol heavy concoction so named by the Great Sage because like the Maou of Earth, the drink was sweet to the taste, and packed a hellacious wallop, Yuuri didn't know. All he knew was that he had been warm in the water and now he was shaking with the cold—and the room was spinning around him. Conrad held him tighter still.

"It's all right, Yuuri. Are you feeling sick? Do you need to throw up?"

His voice was so kind, so soft, and his hands on Yuuri's back were stroking the young man gently, traveling up and down his spine. It was beautiful, really, and it was also something Yuuri had always dreamed of—being held by Conrad. But, this wasn't romantic at all. His protector sounded distant, like a doctor, and he didn't know why, but Yuuri began to cry.

"It's all right, Yuuri," Conrad said, soothingly, which only made Yuuri cry harder. "What's wrong? You can tell me."

"I feel weird and my stomach feels bad, and you're being really nice!"

"I..I…shouldn't I be nice?" Conrad asked, his confusion evident to Yuuri.

"No, you shouldn't," Yuuri said, struggling out of Conrad's arms and striking out toward the door. He was weaving, he could feel it himself. Why wouldn't his legs work right? Finally, he just sat down, in the middle of the bathing chamber floor, his towel bunching around him.

"I could never be mean to you, Yuuri," Conrad whispered, as he knelt at Yuuri's side and wrapped his arm around his shoulder. "I couldn't hurt you like that."

"You hurt me like that all the time," Yuuri wailed, slapping at Conrad's hands. "You don't love me!"

"Of course I love you, Yuuri!" Conrad gasped, his face becoming a shocked masked.

Yuuri waved his hand dismissively, feeling very sorry for himself now. "I know you love me like that," he muttered. "Like a kid brother, or maybe even a son, but you don't love-love me the way I love-love you."

His knight picked him up in his strong arms and carried him. "You're wrong, Yuuri," he said. "I do love-love you, very much."

"Love-love, like love-love-love, for real?"

"Love-love-love, for real, Yuuri." Conrad said quietly. "And if you remember any of this tomorrow when you wake up, we can talk about it, then."

"You think I'm going to pass out and forget, don't you?"

"It's a definite possibility," Conrad said, smiling down at Yuuri.

"I'm not going to forget," Yuuri vowed, his words coming easier now that his head felt slightly less mushy. "You'll see. I'll remember."

"I hope so, Yuuri. Now, you're going to catch a cold if we don't do something about your current state. So, I'm taking you to your room and you can change there."

Yuuri didn't object. He snuggled closer to Conrad's chest, warm and happy knowing that the half-demon returned his affection, even if it all took on the quality of a happy dream. In his room, after he was dry and in Pajamas, he leaned forward to kiss Conrad, but missed the soldier's mouth and ended up nearly falling off the bed. That made his stomach pitch and roll like a coaster ride, and what he had planned to be a romantic meeting of lips turned into him heaving up the contents of that rebellious organ into the wastebasket.

"Ooooh," he groaned as he collapsed back on his pillows. "I'm never drinking again, Conrad. I feel rotten!"

"I know you do, baby," Conrad whispered softly, wiping Yuuri's mouth with a damp cloth and using another to wipe his face. "This is the not-so-fun part of your Shori Volcano."

"Yeah, I feel like the village now, when the lava destroys everything in its path."

Conrad laughed a little, but even through his bleary eyes, Yuuri could read the man's concerned expression.

"Are you sleepy, Heika? Do you think you can close your eyes?"

Yuuri obediently closed his eyes, but searched with his hand until he found Conrad's arm. He gripped it tight. "Are you going to leave me, Conrad? I feel so bad. I'm…I'm a little scared."

"I'm right here, Yuuri. Right by your side. I'm not leaving."

"Ok," Yuuri replied, already praying for sleep. He just wanted this sick feeling to go away.

The next morning, when Yuuri woke up properly, he found he had flashes of memory from throughout the night. His entire body ached, and he seemed to recall barfing several times. He remembered, vaguely, Wolfram calling him a drunken lush, insulting his cat ears, and breaking their engagement because "_No Honorable mazoku would marry a drunk!_" Although, Yuuri supposed he just dreamed that part. He remembered, clearly, hosting the costume party with Murata, but how he had returned to Shin Makoku, he couldn't quite remember. His parents were out of town, and Shori had been out for the evening, or was supposed to have been. He did think he recalled the bath and something about Conrad…naked. Glancing over to his left, he saw his Nazukeoya, wearing nothing except Gwendal's coat and a towel—sleeping in the chair next to Yuuri's bed. Yuuri shook his head, but regretted it instantly—a headache he didn't even know he had blazed up to drench him in pain. Still, Conrad did look strange—maybe he had been drinking, too.

He heard something, drifting through his hazy memories…Conrad's voice…_I know you do, baby_…and a note in it he'd probably imagined, but such a nice dream, really. Yuuri moved as gently as possible to a more comfortable position—well, less painful position, and let himself think about Conrad's soft voice, sounding like he loved him. He envied the lucky man or woman who would get to be Conrad's baby. Conrad's eyes opened as Yuuri watched. For a moment, even through the headache, Yuuri saw something deep in the soldier's eyes, then the expression was gone, covered by the placid mask Yuuri knew to be the look Conrad wore when he was waiting for something.

"Morning," Yuuri whispered, his throat raw and aching. "I…I'm pretty sure I should be feeling embarrassed right now, right?"

"Morning, Heika," Conrad said, leaning forward and brushing his fingers lightly over Yuuri's brow. "And please, don't worry. Everyone experiences a drunken escapade at least once, though, sometimes the hangover is enough to prevent a repeat performance. How are you feeling?"

"It's Yuuri, Nazukeoya," Yuuri whispered. "And death could only improve my condition."

The soldier nodded, his expression now sympathetic. "I'm sorry, Yuuri. This is the worst part of all, but you will start to feel better in a few hours. You need to drink though—even if the thought makes you feel a bit sick. You need to drink water, and tea, too if you can. I'm just going to get dressed, ok?"

"You spent all night here, in nothing but what you're wearing?"

"Well," Conrad said, casually as he stood, and shrugged out of Gwendal's green coat. "I tried to leave a couple of times, only to dress, but you kept grabbing my hand. Gwendal took pity on me, as you see. I'll return this to him on my way to my room. When I come back, I'll bring some water, ok?"

"K," Yuuri whispered, feeling even worse for the knowledge that Conrad had spent such an uncomfortable night. "Could you do me a favor, though, and keep Wolfram out of here? I don't think my head can take the yelling this morning."

"Wolfram isn't in the castle, Yuuri," Conrad said, his expression now a neutral blank. "When he came in last night, and started to yell at you, about drinking, you woke up…and you hissed at him. Sort of like a cat. For whatever reason, that really disturbed him, and that, coupled with the alcohol…well, you may not remember it, but Wolfram broke your engagement. I'm very sorry."

"I thought it was a dream!" Yuuri said, again regretting his attempt at exuberance. "Do you…do you think he meant it?"

Conrad nodded. "Wolfram has strong opinions about drinking. You didn't know that?"

"No," Yuuri whispered. "I didn't. But, it's all right. It's better for both of us, Conrad. Not that I intend to turn into a heavy drinker or anything!"

"I know," his soldier said, then the tall half-demon turned his back and Yuuri was struck by another sudden memory. He had slapped at Conrad's hands, for some reason, and he had been held close to his damp, freshly scrubbed skin, and he had been so upset…but why?

"Love-love-love you, for real," he whispered too low for the soldier to hear, as Conrad closed the door.

The rest of the day passed with agonizing boredom. Yuuri endured a stern lecture from Gwendal on the evils of over-indulgence. He comforted Gunter when his adjutant's patented hangover remedy didn't cure him, and through it all, Conrad remained nearby—ready with tea, sympathy, and the wastebasket whenever Yuuri needed it. Later, in the afternoon, when he was feeling slightly more himself, and the maids, very kindly, kicked him out of his room so that they could freshen it, he found himself in the bath—right back where it all started.

Conrad was perched at the side of the great tub, washing Yuuri's hair and telling him embarrassing stories about his own drunken nights as a young man. Another image flashed into Yuuri's head—Conrad with soap in his hair.

Yuuri closed his eyes as Conrad poured a pitcher of water over his head. It felt much better to be clean. He watched Conrad carefully, looking for any sign that the soldier wanted to talk about the conversation they'd had the night before. Nothing about him, however, provided any clue as to his thoughts and Yuuri realized that the half-demon was waiting. He was waiting for Yuuri, and if the young Maou never remembered what he'd said the previous night, Conrad would never bring it up.

"How long are you willing to go on this way, Conrad?" Yuuri asked suddenly.

The pitcher above his head froze in mid-air as Conrad's entire body stilled.

"What do you mean, Yuuri?"

"I mean…you've been with me all night and day. You've seen me, most definitely, at my worst, and you've not said a thing. It just occurred to me, you're not going to say anything at all, are you? You're not going to try and prod my memory, or even hint at what I said last night. Why? Are you happy the way things are?"

Water sluiced over his head, washing away the last of the soap. He watched as Conrad set the pitcher to the side, and pulled his knees to his chest, crossing his bare feet at the ankles and wrapping his arms around his shins. He stared at Yuuri for a long moment, obviously considering what he was going to say.

"The short answer is, Yes, Yuuri—I'm happy the way things are. I get to be with you every day, and mostly, I'm the one you turn to when you need anything. It's my privilege to protect and guard you, but beyond that, we spend intimate time together, like this, and I know that is because you both trust me and enjoy my company. So, how could I be unhappy? It would be very selfish of me to wish for more, and ungratefully boorish of me to curse my lot in life. I have everything I want, right here, so I have no complaints."

Yuuri felt ashamed of himself, and could feel his embarrassed blush heating his face. Why did Conrad always have to have the perfect words? How did he know exactly what to say that would not only smooth over a situation, but would also sound, only very vaguely, like a gentle reproof? Was he saying that Yuuri was wrong for wanting more? The young king didn't know, but his courage in the face of Conrad's serene features waned.

"The longer answer is more complicated," Conrad offered, reaching out one hand and using his index finger to trace the line of Yuuri's nose.

"What do you mean?" Yuuri asked, still not quite able to meet Conrad's eyes.

"Last night you told me something that could change our lives forever. I can see in your face that you remember, and I promised that if you woke up and wanted to talk about it, then we would. Last night, though, Yuuri, you were intoxicated—and saying things that in the cold, light of morning, you might regret."

"How could I ever regret loving you?" Yuuri whispered, blinking away tears.

"In my heart, I hope you never do, and Shinou knows I will do everything in my limited power to prevent that, but, I stayed awake most of last night wondering if I have the courage to do what you might ask of me. I am content with my lot in life now, Yuuri, because I have never known anything else. I have longed for you, yearned for you, but those have been my private torments. Now, though, you've offered me a chance at something more—and I'm just afraid that one day you will change your mind. I know myself, Yuuri, and I know my own heart. I will never leave you, and I will remain by your side, loving you a little more each day, for the whole of my life. But you are young, so very young, and you might decide—and the odds are that you will—that you want someone else."

Yuuri stared at his knight, shocked. He had never expected to hear that Conrad had doubts about anything at all. Looking at the man he knew that he loved, Yuuri could see that he was a mixture of vulnerable hope and fear. Yuuri opened his mouth and closed it several times, unsure of how to begin. It was so frustrating! How could Conrad just sit there, content to let this moment pass them both by, just because he was afraid? Yuuri was afraid, too!

Finally, Yuuri cupped his hand in the water and sent a small wave rushing toward his soldier, splashing him in the face. The surprised look and spluttering Conrad was a priceless image that Yuuri would treasure for the rest of his life, but, for now, he was a little, no, a lot annoyed.

"You big…jerk!" Yuuri growled. "You were just going to let our lives pass away without ever knowing what we could have together because you're afraid I might break up with you someday? That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard!" It took no time for Yuuri to work himself into a state of righteous indignation. "I can't believe it! I've been tearing my hair out for ages trying to get you to notice me, to give me some sign that you think of me as something more than a little brother, because when I go to bed at night I dream of you, when I wake up in the morning, you're the first person I look for, and I try to spend as many minutes in between with you because you're my favorite person in either world and I don't want to be with anyone else _BUT_ you! I love you so much I can't hardly speak sometimes because I get embarrassed and tongue-tied, and I—"

Conrad's lips sealing over his own ended Yuuri's tirade. The young Maou forgot his anger, losing himself in the soft, gentle kiss. His heart seemed to expand then contract painfully, and without thinking he wrapped his arms around Conrad's neck, ignoring the water dripping from his skin and hair. He felt Conrad's teeth lightly nibble his lower lip and he couldn't help it, he moaned—the sound echoing off the walls of the bathing chamber. Nothing could ever feel this good, he thought, and the very notion that he could want another was completely ludicrous.

When Conrad pulled back, finally, Yuuri opened his eyes. He was half in, half out of the bath, sprawled over Conrad's lap and pulled tightly to his chest. The position was awkward and uncomfortable…and he didn't care in the least.

"I don't know what will happen in the future, Conrad." Yuuri whispered. "But I know that I don't want to miss this. I don't want to go another day without it—I've been lonely for you."

"Very lonely," Conrad echoed, his tone revealing all the secret things he could not say. "I do love you, Yuuri."

"Love-love-love me, really?" Yuuri asked, smiling a little.

When Conrad grinned, Yuuri felt the tension ebb from his soldiers and he knew everything was going to be ok. "Love-love-love you, really, forever." Conrad whispered, pulling Yuuri completely out of the water, and into his lap.

"Even when I'm sick, soggy, and hungover?" Yuuri asked, nuzzling into Conrad's shoulder.

"Especially, then," Conrad replied, then leaned down to whisper, "But it was the cat ears that really sent me over the edge."

Yuuri groaned and hid his face in Conrad's neck. _Cat ears_. He just had to wear the damned cat ears.

Yuuri was able to make it to dinner that night, and he even managed to eat some of the wonderfully bland food—obviously everyone in the castle knew of his libation-induced illness. Remarkably, everyone appeared the same, for all that he felt different. Gwendal still put more sugar than tea in his cup, and Gunter still hugged him much too tightly, and Conrad…well, his soldier was still himself. He remained quiet, keeping to the edge of the conversation, never drawing an overt amount of attention to himself, but Yuuri didn't care—he didn't need grand gestures to know he was loved.

He smiled to himself, after Conrad left his room that night—staying not only to make sure that Yuuri was tucked into bed, but also to share the most delicious kisses Yuuri had ever experienced and didn't even know existed—thinking about his brother Shori. As dinner had progressed, Yuuri remembered more and more about the party back on earth. The cocktail had been part of a drinking game, a confessional game, and when it came around to admitting the person each of the players loved the most—he had been just drunk enough to confess to his friends his feelings for Conrad. Shori had been incensed, arriving home just at that moment—first to discover that his precious Yu-chan had been imbibing and second, to hear that his baby brother had very adult feelings for the one person in Shin Makoku that Shori couldn't stand. It was then that Murata, always quick to act when necessary, dumped the rest of the cocktail over Yuuri's head and he'd started his journey back to Shin Makoku. Yuuri touched his lips, remembering the taste of Conrad's skin, and blushed, as his fingers traced the line Conrad's mouth had followed, leaving love-bites all along the path. He decided he better remain in Shin Makoku for a long while—there would be time enough to face Shori, tell him the news, and then watch as his older brother's guaranteed eruption made Krakatau look like a party favor.

* * *

_Ah, well, it was silly I know…but I like the idea of Yuuri in cat ears. I think I've been spending too much time talking to Gewndal in my head. I'm off to work, and, just an FYI, FF has been denying me mail, apparently…as a whole bunch just blew up my mail box that had been empty for a couple of days. So, if I haven't answered recently, I probably have—but FF just hasn't sent it to you. Grrrr! Thanks again for reading and I'll be seeing you for the next update._


	7. Chapter 7

_And here is the 7__th__ installment of Loving the Maou. Avert your eyes, oh ye faint of heart….there's naked-ness in this one…_

* * *

**Loving the Maou: A Soldier's Handbook**

_Leisure time is a luxury and rarely can a Maou indulge in pursuits purely designed for his pleasure. A soldier, however, should always be prepared to turn even the most pedantic of rituals into opportunities for the Maou's enjoyment. If, while providing an essential service, or completing a necessary task, therefore, the soldier appears to best advantage and has the chance to prove his value, well, these should be counted as bonuses. It is essential to remember, however, that while the soldier might use this special time as a way to show off his prowess—the task at hand must still be completed._

_A wise soldier, also, will guarantee that his Maou leave such a task in a much better mood than the aforementioned ruler began it…_

_Taken from chapter Five of Loving the Maou: A Soldier's Handbook._

"You're serious, right?" Yuuri asked as he dipped his toes into the cool, clear, beautifully blue water that lapped where the beach met the lake. "I really have to do this?"

"Something disturbs you, Heika?" Conrad asked, his warm cinnamon eyes filling with concern that made Yuuri blush.

"I…I don't really like water," Yuuri whispered.

Conrad looked a little shocked at his statement, and Yuuri wasn't surprised.

"But…Heika…you travel back and forth between Earth and Shin Makoku via a water-route, and you easily handled the retrieval of Morgif, and I've seen you spend hours in the bath. Forgive me, Heika. I thought you liked the water."

Yuuri was so distracted, he didn't even bother correcting his Nazukeoya on the use of his title over his name. He wasn't sure how to explain it, but ever since he had popped up in the ocean, and been initially frightened of that huge, _GI-NORMOUS_ shark, Yuuri hadn't been comfortable in bodies of water much larger than Shinou's fountain. He toed the water again. But how was he supposed to tell that to Conrad? His knight, of course, wasn't afraid of anything. There was no mazoku braver, and no more dashing demon alive than Sir Conrad Weller. And, what it made it worse—no_, what was worst of all_—was that Conrad had arranged this small holiday at the lake just for Yuuri. Two days, two men. No Wolfram pulling at his hair. No Gwendal burying him under complicated treaties and trade agreements. No Gunter using him like a personal dress-up doll to show off at State functions. No Anissina….being Anissina. Just the two of them.

Yuuri toed the water a third time. The only reason Conrad had been able to arrange this time alone, at all, was because, secreted under a black stone on the small island—more like a pretentious sandbar than island, really—in the center of the lake was the infamous Kiba-stone. The Kiba-stone was one of the still-missing artifacts of the Demon-Nation, but this one had an unusual quirk. While, ostensibly, it could reverse the affects of houseki instantaneously…direct contact or observation by anyone other than the Maou would cause that person to go immediately blind. Therefore, as a safeguard, it had been agreed that only Conrad would accompany the Maou.

_So, daring mission, romantic setting, the sexiest demon alive all to himself on a beautiful, secluded beach, the blue water beckoning...and one spit-scared teenager unable to do more than look at his own feet._

"I'm a little scared," Yuuri admitted finally.

"Of what…Yuuri?" Conrad's voice softened, all mirth gone.

"Sharks."

"Whyever for?" Conrad asked, clearly surprised. "A shark would never harm you, Yuuri. Besides, there are no freshwater sharks in this lake anyway."

"I know that," Yuuri "I know they're an herbivorous species here. But knowing that doesn't mean I'm not still scared. Sharks, at home, attack people sometimes, not often, but sometimes, and they are definitely carnivores. So, I can't help it, my imagination sometimes…gets the better of me."

Yuuri looked up to find his Nazukeoya staring down at him with a look of such compassionate concern that his throat suddenly tightened, though not with any happy emotion. He knew it. He knew that if he really told Conrad what he was thinking, then the man would look at him just like that. '_He's probably going to do something soothing now—something thoughtful and kind, and it will be perfect, and I'll feel better, and he…will have another reason to think I'm just a stupid kid_.' Yuuri shook his head, angry and now fighting back tears. '_Hello, another year of sexual frustration_,' he growled inside of his head, mentally tipping his pretend hat in deference to all the missed opportunities and broken moments he had shared with the man standing beside him.

Conrad's gentle sigh drew his attention. Yuuri looked up to see his soldier's long, nimble fingers working at the buttons of his tan uniform.

"What are you doing, Conrad?" He asked.

"I'm taking my clothes off," the soldier replied, no longer looking at Yuuri but keeping his gaze trained on the strip of sand in the center of the lake.

"But…But why?" Yuuri asked, still bewildered.

"I don't want to get them wet. Wool takes forever to dry."

Conrad kicked at his boots, the right one giving him just a touch of trouble, and the tall leather footwear joined his jacket on the sand. Next, his shirt, and Yuuri's breath caught as he was faced with the old, roping scars that marred the perfection of Conrad's skin—silent witnesses bearing proof of a life of hardship. As Conrad unbuckled his belt, laying his sword aside before unfastening the buttons of his trouser, Yuuri felt his whole body begin to tingle, then go numb. He really, really needed to stop staring. But, the Maou couldn't seem to move his head, so When Conrad rolled his hips, once, and his trousers slid down his long, muscular legs, Yuuri was treated to a sight that nearly made him faint—Conrad, naked, in all his glory (and there was a lot of glory, he thought, swallowing hard), strode into the lake. The water churned around the soldier's ankles, then his calves, then his thighs, until Yuuri was presented with picture of Conrad's strong back and shoulders tensed and prepared for action as his entire body seemed to coil then, without warning, he exploded upwards, bending at his waist, and completed a dive into the blue water, submerging himself completely. The last thing Yuuri saw was the rounded, perfect shape of Conrad's well-muscled, absolutely beautiful ass.

"Conrad, what the hell are you doing?" Yuuri shouted when his soldier's head broke water, several yards further from shore than where he'd first gone under water.

"I'm going to get the Kiba-stone," the knight answered, his deep voice ringing through the beautiful morning, and despite the warm sun on his skin, Yuuri went cold.

"You can't do that!" He screamed, tearing at his own clothes and tripping over his own feet in his haste to get out of his shoes. "You'll go blind, Conrad. Stop! Just stop right where you are!"

The soldier must not have heard him though, because Conrad's strong arms were slicing through the water, his masterful stroke drawing him ever further from Yuuri's side. Naked now, and chest heaving, Yuuri put the pouch Gunter had given him to hold the Kiba-stone around his neck and tore into the water with every ounce of speed he could muster. He tripped, splashing himself as he slipped below the surface, but when he popped back up, he could see Conrad, far ahead of him, treading water and looking toward the beach.

"Don't you move, Conrad Weller! That's a fucking order!" Yuuri shouted as he applied himself to the task at hand. There was no thought of sharks—benign or malevolent—in his mind as he swam toward the man he loved. He might very well be nothing better than an awkward teenager, and sure, maybe he was in love with a man who would never look at him and see anything other than a kid in a fancy Maou-suit, but there was no way he was going to let that light, that wonderful, warm, brilliant light fade from the eyes of his most special person. As he swam, he knew fear—and he understood in a flash of insight, why Murata sometimes smiled with such sadness that it made Yuuri's heart ache—over four thousand years, how many loves had the Great Sage lost? He knew, now, why his parents had been so reluctant to let him go out to the arcade without Shori for the first time—how do you let your child let go of your protective, parental hand? Yuuri knew he couldn't protect Conrad from every danger he would face, but in this one case? Yes, he could.

"What were you thinking?" Yuuri gasped as he nearly slammed into the wet wall of Conrad's chest.

The soldier was treading water, seemingly unconcerned with the import of what he had been about to do. Yuuri put his hands on Conrad's shoulders lightly, pushing the soldier just a bit. "Don't you know what could happen to you if you see that stone? How could you even consider this?"

"I wasn't going to look at it," Conrad said softly, his hands coming to rest on Yuuri's waist as he steadied them both in the water.

"I don't care!" Yuuri gasped. "Accidents happen, Conrad. Don't you dare do anything foolish like that again."

"You didn't want to come into the water, Yuuri." Conrad smiled at him, but something about the look on his face was…different. It wasn't…fatherly, or condescending at all. "Don't you know that I'd do anything for you?"

The unstated promise beneath the strong vow made Yuuri pant in a way that had nothing to do with being out of breath from his exertions. Slowly, Conrad submerged and Yuuri lost contact with his knight's shoulders. Yuuri felt the movement of the water over his skin, then the brush of something warm against his legs. He was treading water, only his head and shoulders above the surface, and as he looked down, he could see and feel Conrad as the tall, lithe half-demon wound around his body in circles, brushing against his skin. Conrad's sensuous, sinuous motion made Yuuri feel languid and breathless. When his soldier finally surfaced again, his chest pressed against Yuuri's back. Conrad curled one arm around Yuuri's waist and leaned back until Yuuri's body rested against his and the younger man's toes tipped up toward the surface. Half-reclined in the water, Conrad swam them both, lazily, through the water, using one strong arm to both pull and guide them toward the sandbar—but he seemed to be in no hurry to arrive.

For his part, Yuuri could barely breathe. He'd never been this close to Conrad before. Not like this—skin to skin with the fluid pressure of the water alternately lifting his hips up toward the surface and the powerful slice of Conrad's kicks pulling him back toward his soldier.

"I didn't mean to frighten you, Yuuri," Conrad said, his breath hot against Yuuri's damp skin. "You don't like the water, and I love it. I love the feel of it and the way I feel moving through it. I don't think there was any real danger for me in going after the stone. I really, truly, would not have looked."

"Still, I will get it," Yuuri replied, beginning to match his kicks with Conrad's so they moved a little easier through the lake. "And it's not that I don't like the water. I really like swimming. It's predators I object to."

"There's only one creature in this lake that wants to eat you up…Yuuri," Conrad's husky whisper sent shivers down Yuuri's spine. "But, even so, you're perfectly safe."

Yuuri twisted in the water until his chest met Conrad's. They tilted again, slightly down this time, their legs twining as Yuuri slid between Conrad's thighs. He was naïve, yes, and he knew it…but even he knew what his knight was saying. His heart thumped against his ribs, sending blood pounding in his veins. "What if…I don't want to be safe," Yuuri whispered, not quite able to believe his own daring, or meet Conrad's eyes.

"Fortune favors the foolish," Conrad quoted softly.

Yuuri did look into his eyes, then, and saw everything he'd always wanted to see—hope, promise, concern, desire…and a tiny hint of fear. Did that mean his brave Conrad had doubts about his acceptance? Did that play some part in all those missed opportunities? Yuuri took a deep breath. He hurt, physically hurt, though there was no pain in his body—just the uncomfortable stretching of coming to terms with how he really felt.

"Then…fortune should really love me," Yuuri said, closing his eyes, and pressing his lips against Conrad's before he could lose his nerve.

Of all the miraculous and wondrous events Shibuya Yuuri had ever witnessed, been involved in, or heard about—and there had been, arguably, many—the moment Conrad Weller's hands began to stroke his skin, and the soldier's lips took over his awkward kiss and turned it into a gesture filled with longing, passion and promise was the best moment of his life. Treading water, his arms around Conrad's neck, tasting the lake and the soldier's breath as they kissed was more than Yuuri had ever hoped to experience. The motion of the water pulled them apart and pushed them back together in a rhythm that brought a deep blush to Yuuri's face for his lascivious thoughts. He had an idea that Conrad's thoughts lay in the same vein because his ever-composed soldier groaned, a harsh guttural sound, as a short wave pushed Yuuri's hips into his. Yuuri had never heard Conrad make that sound before, but something primitive inside of him recognized what it meant and he wrapped his legs around Conrad's waist—eliciting another deep, sexy growl.

The splash and plop of a fish, somewhere nearby, lifted the hazy curtain that had descended over Yuuri's senses and he realized what he was doing. Conrad's vision had cleared too, it seemed, and they stared into each other's eyes, chests heaving, and Yuuri fell in love, all over again, with Conrad's slightly confused but contented expression.

"Stay with me," Conrad said, never breaking eye contact with Yuuri. "Let's…get this kiba-stone, put it away, and then get on with the rest of your holiday…what do you think?"

"Our holiday," Yuuri corrected, still blushing terribly, as he slowly unlocked his legs from their position around Conrad's waist. In balance, they both turned on their sides, facing one another, and swam, side-stroke, in the direction of the little sandbar, which really was closer than Yuuri thought. Conrad was right—just finish the task and get back to what the Maou thought might be something pretty fantastic.

The retrieval of the Kiba-stone was incredibly anti-climactic. It was just an ugly little grey and white spotted rock that felt heavier than it looked and had a nasty aura around it. Yuuri dropped it in the bag designed to hold it, glancing over his shoulder to see that Conrad was standing on the small strip of sand, as far away as the short strip of island would allow, his back to Yuuri and his arms folded over his chest. If he took a moment longer than necessary to follow the strong column of Conrad's spine with his eyes from the tall man's neck down to the sensual swell of his buttocks—Yuuri thought it was only right. After all, he'd been fantasizing about Conrad Weller for years, and sharing a perfunctory bath, especially when any number of people were always around, well, that wasn't the same as seeing the soldier like this—raw and untamed in a natural setting. Yuuri tried to calm his racing heart, and forced himself to get up. When he returned to Conrad's side, feeling at once skinny and inadequate when compared to the perfection embodied by his knight, Conrad's expression of tender devotion chased away his doubts. The swim back to the other beach didn't take quite as long, and whenever Yuuri's still rebellious brain offered him imaginary images of water-dwelling monsters that were surely swimming toward him even at that moment, he found himself wrapped up in Conrad's arms and all his bad thoughts fled before the onslaught of Conrad's gentle, passion-filled kisses.

Later, as they lay on the beach in the hot, afternoon sun, completely at ease, Yuuri pillowed his head on his arms and stretched his sun-warmed limbs, digging his toes into the sand. Conrad lay beside him, head propped on one hand, drawing lazy patterns on Yuuri's chest with the index finger of his other hand.

"I didn't bring you out here with the intention of seducing you," Conrad said softly.

Yuuri's lips quirked in both amusement and annoyance. He felt sleepy and languorous in the heat. "You haven't technically seduced me yet."

Conrad's laugh was light and easy.

"I don't know how long I've thought of you this way—wanted this…wanted you. Probably since the moment I realized that girls are really great, but I wouldn't want to go to bed with one." Yuuri said, no longer surprised by the effortlessness with which these new words in his vocabulary seemed to come to his lips. Sure, he was still unsure of himself, and lacked experience to do exactly what he wanted to do, which was to roll over and have Conrad teach him all about love-making, but, he'd always been able to talk to Conrad, to confess his fears and secrets…maybe the ease he felt in using words meant for lovers was a good sign of better things to come.

"The others…" Conrad said, as a shadow passed over his face.

Yuuri reached up with one hand and pressed his fingers to Conrad's lips. "Nope. No sadness. No regrets. I won't have it. It's going to suck, I know, and it will be a problem, I know that too. But, when you took off for that stone without me, and I realized what you meant to do…no way. I've watched you walk away from me and into danger one too many times, wanting to call after you and at least tell you what you mean to me. No more. I know you'll always put yourself between me and harm, but, never again without knowing that you mean everything to me. Don't you know, Conrad, that I'd do anything for you, too?" Yuuri shrugged in the sand and grinned. "Shin Makoku can always have another Maou—the ten families will see to that, but there's only one of _you_, Conrad. And…it's you I want."

"You have me, Yuuri," Conrad whispered. "You always have and you always will."

"Then there's only one thing left in the world for me to want," Yuuri said, looking slyly at his knight.

"What's that…?" Conrad asked.

Yuuri heaved a dramatic sigh. "To beat GTA IV on the hardest difficulty."

Yuuri waited a beat, watching the confused expression on Conrad's face deepen into serious thought.

"That…that's a…video game?" Conrad mused. "The one I heard Geika complaining about?"

"Yep." Yuuri said, trying to keep a straight face.

"I…I'm to be compared with…a video game?" Conrad asked, shaking his head.

"Not exactly," Yuuri said, his grin revealing itself. "I can't seem to win the game, but I already won you. You were much easier."

"_HEIKA_!" Conrad gasped in mock outrage. Then laughter spilled from his soldier's lips, booming out into the afternoon air, and Yuuri giggled, then gave up and laughed, too. Conrad was…happy. He wasn't quiet, thoughtful, pensive, or polite, understanding, and self-sacrificing. This was a rare event that Yuuri wanted to make a common occurrence—Conrad happy and laughing.

Yuuri was still smiling when he pulled himself to his feet and strolled back toward the edge of the water. Conrad was watching him. He could feel the soldier's stare burning into his back. Forcing himself to remain calm, Yuuri took a deep breath and walked into the water. He moved slowly, hoping against hope that his final plan would work out as well as the rest of the day had. He wasn't much of a lover, he knew, and he had no experience at being alluring, but he hadn't been completely truthful with the man he loved. He did want something else—and he'd waited for years to have it—longer than he had waited for anything, it seemed.

"Yuuri…? What are you doing?" Conrad called out.

The water was lapping at Yuuri's hips, just barely grazing his waist as he turned and looked over his shoulder. "I'm hot," Yuuri said, staring at his soldier with unabashed lust. "So, I thought I'd take a swim. You coming?"

The moment stretched between them, all traces of former silliness had disappeared, and Yuuri felt the weight of Conrad's very hungry, definitely predatory gaze.

Conrad pushed himself to his feet, dusting the sand off his strong thighs and sauntered, oh yes, he sauntered to the edge of the water. Yuuri swallowed hard, but forced himself to be brave. He lifted a brow, and gave a little teasing smirk before he repeated, "You coming?"

"Don't worry, Yuuri," Conrad's mouth mirrored Yuuri's expression. "I will be."

Giving a little squeak as Conrad moved through the lake like a water dragon, Yuuri turned and took off swimming, knowing he'd be caught, and praying that his punishment for teasing his soldier would be everything he'd dreamed. It occurred to Yuuri, suddenly, that water, really, was a most underrated element.

* * *

_And there, my friends, is chapter 7. I will admit, my own sweetheart inspired this one for me. He, too, is a man who enjoys swimming. Anyway, I promised updates of this before updates of RTM, which is slated to be updated by tomorrow night. I'm writing away furiously, but wanted to post this one up. Again, my apologies for the delay on the stories. Readers of RTM know why, so I will just say here, quickly, that a family medical situation arose which required my complete attention. However, we are all fine now, and writing will recommence. Thanks for reading, and I'm still catching up on reviews, but I'll get there. Have a nice weekend everyone! Cheers…SN_


	8. Chapter 8

**Loving the Maou: A Soldier's Handbook**

_Inclement Weather: While the Maou may be the political and sometimes spiritual head of the Demon Nation, it should be remembered that the King is, still, prone to the vagaries of illness as much as any other being. Powerful Magic or maryoku will not be enough to stave off the occasional cold or bout of kohi-flu. A savvy soldier will take such opportunities to not only nurse an ill Maou back to health, but to remind the ruler that love, in all its forms, is first and foremost the ability to accept circumstances as they stand._

_As a side-note, however, it might be prudent for a cautious soldier to prevent the Maou from spending too much time walking in the rain._

**Part Eight: You and Me and Rain on the Roof**

"A-CHOO!"

Conrad paused, his hand still on the bolt that secured the stall door behind which his own horse was currently engrossed in emptying his hay bin. "Heika?" he asked, the hairs on the back of his neck bristling as they did whenever the Maou was near.

"Sorry," came the muffled reply. "I didn't mean to interrupt you."

Conrad took a deep breath and calmed his heart, forcing the placid mask—his usual expression—to his face. The very nasal sound of Yuuri's voice as well as the five sneezes that followed in quick succession told the soldier all he needed to know.

"Have you been out all day in this rain?"

"Maybe," came the slightly embarrassed reply.

Conrad could tell by the sound of Yuuri's voice that he was hiding in the darkness at the back of the stable, probably behind the stacked hay bales.

"Why?" he asked.

After an interminable silence, Yuuri's voice echoed again. "Because you're disappointed with me."

Conrad intended to refute the statement, but, since it was true, he really couldn't.

"Are you going somewhere?" Yuuri asked, still cloaked in the darkness.

"Yes." Conrad replied, toying with the bolt on the stall door. "All things considered, I've asked Gwendal for some time off. I'm taking a trip."

"You're leaving? As in…leaving!" Yuuri sneezed again. "How…how long are you going to be gone?"

"I don't know, Yuuri," Conrad sighed, finally fed to the teeth with pretending to be unconcerned. "I haven't really thought about it, and I should think that you have plenty to occupy yourself at the moment—you won't even know I'm gone."

He heard movement to his left, then caught the flash of movement out of the corner of his eye. He turned and stared at the open stable door, forcing himself to watch the rain sheeting down in torrents. It was easier to face the dismal weather than to face the hurt, startled eyes of the Maou.

"How can you say that?" Yuuri whispered. "You know I didn't mean for this to happen?"

"Do I?" Conrad asked, quietly. "Do I really know that? All I really know is that it hasn't been a month since you promised me things would change—yet Wolfram is wearing a new, terribly expensive and beautiful ring. Even if I wanted to ignore the gift, I couldn't. He's forced everyone to look at it. I hear he's even incorporated it into his new painting."

"I didn't mean to hurt you—" Yuuri began, but Conrad shook his head.

"I know you didn't," he said interrupting the King, shaking his head, and struggling against the burning sensation at the back of his eyes. "I'm not angry, Yuuri…I'm just tired. I've waited so long…and I let my hopes get the better of me. I know you didn't mean to hurt me. You'd never hurt anyone, but…sometimes, by trying to please everyone, you just end up…making everyone miserable instead. I…I need to go."

Conrad yanked the bolt on the stall door, but, Yuuri had gotten faster over the years, and he found his hand covered with the Maou's slight fingers.

"Don't," Yuuri said, his voice uncharacteristically gruff. "Don't do this—not until I explain." The younger man sneezed again, and shook his head. "Come on, Conrad, please. Do you really think I'd treat you like that? Do you think I made love with you that night because I was just horny, or thought it would be fun to seduce you, only to break your heart later? I love you, and you told me you love me , too!"

"I do," Conrad said quickly, squeezing Yuuri's fingers. "I've loved you your whole life and you know it."

"Then answer me this, why would I give Wolfram, a blonde with green eyes, a topaz and diamond ring? Even if I did, why would I buy him a ring sized ten when he wears size eight and a half? I'm not dithering, Conrad. I've made my decision and I don't want to spend any more time in the shadows, stealing kisses and furtive touches. I don't want to have to hide how I feel anymore. I didn't give that ring to Wolfram—he found it and took it. He's been so over the top with it, that he'd already informed half the castle by the time I'd even discovered the mistake. If he ever takes it off long enough to look at the inside, he'll read the inscription—and then all hell will really break loose."

"I wear a size ten ring."

"Well, duh!" Yuuri muttered, rolling his eyes and sneezing again.

Conrad took a deep breath, feeling suddenly weak at the knees. Did Yuuri really mean what he was saying? He was so used to being passed over, standing in the shadow of his more demonstrative sibling that somewhere along the line he had come to believe that if there was a choice to be made, he would end up on the losing side.

"I did think…that topaz wasn't a good choice for Wolfram's coloring," he said, finally.

"Wolfram and I haven't been engaged for over a year, and I think enough time has passed. I'm tired of wanting you from a distance. I thought we'd settled everything last month, but if you need to hear it again—then listen to me, Conrad. You're the only one I love."

In a flash, Conrad yanked Yuuri into his arms, ignoring the Maou's slight cough and the wet sneeze that dampened his shoulder. "I love you, Yuuri. So help me, Shinou, I love you so much."

"I love you, too." The King muttered into his shoulder.

Nuzzling his cheek against the Yuuri's forehead, Conrad realized that his young lover was burning up with fever.

"Yuuri…you're sick!"

"I'll be ok," he said, leaning into Conrad's embrace. "I just overdid it a little today."

Conrad put his foolish concerns aside and lifted Yuuri into his arms, prepared to dash across the courtyard and back into the castle. The King needed a hot bath, warm medicine, something to eat, and a long rest in his bed. As he came to the stable door, the sound of shattering glass and a high-pitched shout of "Yuuri!" startled him. He glanced at the castle and saw that the windows of the royal chamber had burst outward, sending shards of glass showering down to the ground along with the rain.

"Heika?" he asked, nosing Yuuri's cheek.

His lover's black eyes opened, his expression sleepy and sick. "Yuuri, Nazukeoya!" the King half-whined.

"Yuuri," he said softly. "You mentioned an inscription…what does it say?"

"Says…_For Conrad. Forever. Y._—I would have put my whole name but it wouldn't fit."

"I think Wolfram took the ring off," Conrad mused, kissing Yuuri's fevered brow. "Yuuri…you really are sick. Maybe now would be a good time for you to have a short holiday, too? I booked a large stateroom on a ship heading to Caloria."

The Maou flinched as more shouts and fire came from the castle windows. "Good idea."

Conrad smiled, for the first time in days, and carried his lover back to his horse's stall. It took no time at all to saddle his mount, tuck the Maou into the curve of his body, and take off through the driving rain. Laughing at his own boldness, Conrad leaned down and kissed Yuuri's neck—completely oblivious to the mud splattering their clothes and the icy winds. Yuuri was in his arms, and more importantly, was his…_just his_. Nothing else could ever compare to that.

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_Ok, a quickie just for Conrad and Yuuri…It's raining buckets here today, and this just popped into my mind…thanks for reading and your reviews have been so lovely! Thanks again, and I'll be seeing you…SN_


	9. Chapter 9

_My Dear Readers and Friends…Ah, where to begin. First, I have not fallen off the face of the planet, however, our Christmas and New Years have been touched by sadness. My significant other, most beloved fellow and loving partner's father was killed in an auto accident shortly after my last updates to this story and Return to Me. I have been out of the country since then, with absolutely no internet access, tending to our family's affairs. While my partner and I are not married, we have been together for a long time and his father was like my second father. I have only just returned to the States last week, and I was not much in the mood to write romance. So, please forgive my delay, but we have had much to do. Thank you for your patient forbearance, and I see by my inbox that I have much to read and respond to—I will do so as I can. I am somewhat back together, though the grieving process continues…all that being said, I feel I can write again. Therefore, I offer for the new year, installment Nine of LTM. I will be posting the same message on the next chapter of RTM, so readers of both shouldn't be surprised. Thank you all, again…and I hope this comes up to scratch…SN_

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**Loving the Maou: A Soldier's Handbook**

_The Maou commands any number of magical instruments, implements, and beasts. In fact, magic is a staple of the King's existence and those events that are mystical and nearly inexplicable can become so commonplace in the ruler's life that he or she can begin to lose sight of the fact that the small details such as the simple truth of a secret shared or a taste of a scrumptious treat are, in themselves, the essence of magic. A wise, savvy soldier will find ways to show his king that the greatest power of all stems from a giving and faithful heart._

_Taken from chapter twenty-two of Loving the Maou: A Soldier's Handbook._

Looking through the window at the rain coming down in torrents, Yuuri tried to remember exactly how long he had been imprisoned in the small, dank chamber he now inhabited. He tried, as he always did when it rained, to stretch his fingers through the bars of his window, but even though the scant amounts of food that he'd been permitted over the past days had thinned his frame to the point of skeletal sharpness, the bars were still too close together to allow his fingers to pass. Sighing, Yuuri drew away from the window and slid down against the opposite wall. In some fevered corner of his brain, he believed that if he touched the rain he might be whisked away to earth, and the warmth of his bed, his mother's curry, and the understanding eyes of his best friend, Murata. If he could only get to Murata, then perhaps he could find his way home to Shin Makoku again.

"But I don't know where I am, and I don't even know who is holding me," he muttered against his knees.

Tired, ragged, and hungry, Yuuri tried desperately to remember how this had happened. Kidnapping was something, he was embarrassed to admit, he'd almost grown used to. He apologized for the millionth time, and promised for the billionth time, that if he got out of this current predicament, then he'd never gainsay Gwendal again…he'd always consult Gunter before he left the castle, and he'd even be nice to Wolfram—acquiescing to his insane demands to escort Yuuri every place the King decided to go. And Conrad…Yuuri winced. Conrad. For him, for his most beloved Nazukeoya—there was nothing he wouldn't do.

_Just as soon as he could get the hell out of this place_.

The ruler of the Demon Nation reached up, with trembling fingers, to stroke the thin circlet of metal encircling his head. He didn't know who placed it there, but he was certain of the crown's magical effects. Whether it was imbued with houseki, or had some other ward placed upon it, Yuuri couldn't say, but it was clear that whatever it was—it was enough to lock the Maou inside of him, contain all his power…and confuse his memory.

"Get up, Demon. Your dinner is ready."

Yuuri looked toward the chamber door. The gruff command came from one of the robed figures that appeared twice daily. The man was holding a tray. From his place on the floor, Yuuri could smell his dinner—he didn't need to see it to know it was rancid stew of some kind, no doubt writhing with maggots as it had been the day before, and a glass of sweet juice—juice he would try to sip slowly. It was the only thing palatable that came to his tiny chamber, and he knew he would drink it, just as he knew that when he did he would black out…again. And while he wasn't sure what would happen after that, he knew he would wake up with fresh bruises and aches in places he didn't even know he had.

The robed guard dropped the tray at Yuuri's feet—the bowls upended and clattered across the floor. This, too, was no longer surprising to the young King. As he watched his precious juice slip between the seams of the stone pavers that made up his floor, he resigned himself to another day without sustenance, and a night with nameless, unspeakable dreams. Without bothering to clear away the litter, Yuuri merely turned his face aside and closed his eyes.

_The scent of fresh flowers tickled his nose, making Yuuri open his eyes. It had been so long since he'd smelled the outdoors, or felt the warmth of the sun on his face. Looking up at the sky, he noticed the puffy shapes of clouds and a quick glance at his surroundings revealed the sweetest dream. He was in the orchard, back at blood pledge castle, and his heart began to race when his gaze fell on Conrad. His soldier was striding down the path. Yuuri scrambled to his feet and stormed toward the man he loved with all his speed. Before Conrad could call out a greeting, Yuuri slammed into the taller man's chest and held him tight._

"_Heika!" Conrad whispered, his hand coming up to stroke the back of Yuuri's hair._

"_Conrad!" Yuuri cried, snuggling closer. "I guess I finally died, or something. I'm not complaining, but I didn't think you'd be the first person I'd see—are you dead, too?"_

"_I don't think so, Yuuri," Conrad said, laughing. "But where have you been? I've…we've all been so worried."_

"_I don't know," Yuuri replied, shaking off the sense of dread that was steadily creeping up on him. It was a warm, beautiful, sunny day, and he was, finally, holding onto Conrad again. He was either dead or dreaming, and it didn't much matter to him which. "Some guys in black robes bring me food from time to time, but it's really gross. I was pretty sick, I think. I was locked in a chamber, maybe in a castle—but I was up pretty high, because I could only see sky from my window. Then again, it rained all the time, too—so I'm not sure how high up I was."_

"_How many days did it rain, Yuuri?" Conrad asked, his cinnamon colored eyes growing dark._

"_I don't know. They put something on my head, like a crown or something…it messes with my mind." Yuuri pressed closer to Conrad's chest and sighed. "I never thought I would see you again."_

"_That could never happen," Conrad whispered. "Didn't I promise to stay by your side always?"_

_Yuuri looked up into his faithful soldier's eyes. "I wish this was real," he said suddenly, with a fierceness he'd always felt but had never before shown._

"_Why, Yuuri?" Conrad's expression softened, and something lit in his eyes that made the young king shiver with happiness._

"_Because I've never been brave enough to tell you how I really feel."_

"_And how do you feel?" the soldier asked._

_Yuuri opened his mouth to reply, but the sense of dread slammed into him again, and he found himself gripping onto something less solid than his knight._

"_Yuuri—" The words sounded distant, like an echo across the hills. "Remember what you were going to say…hold onto that feeling and don't let go. I promise I will find you."_

When he opened his eyes again, Yuuri was almost disappointed to see that he was still in the same cell, with the same rain falling outside, and the same listless feeling of ill-health settling over his stomach. He squeezed his eyes closed again and tried to remember his dream—it had been something pleasant and beautiful. Conrad's face flashed in his mind's eye, and the sound of the strong man's voice. He had charged Yuuri—commanded him to do something. The young king struggled to remember his beloved's words. Slowly, the images came creeping into his memory. The castle, the orchard, his fingers fisted in Conrad's jacket…and a promise. Conrad had promised to find him—and told Yuuri to hold onto his feelings—to remember.

Yuuri took a deep breath, and forced himself to focus only on Conrad and his faithful soldier's promise. Conrad Weller had bid Yuuri remember, and so he would.

He did not know how long he sat in the corner of the dreary cell any more than he could count the number of individual rain drops that fell outside his window, but in that time, Yuuri remembered. He remembered the first moment he arrived in Shin Makoku. He remembered the first time that Conrad took his hand and rescued him. He remembered long evenings playing catch. He remembered stolen afternoons, when Conrad would pry him from Gwendal's clutches and the mountains of paperwork and the two would play catch for hours. He remembered sword practice, etiquette lessons, long walks and even longer silences which were no burden, for being alone with Conrad was Yuuri's most private pleasure. He couldn't say for sure when he fell in love with the tall, handsome, ever-cheerful soldier, but he knew for sure that he loved Conrad Weller with a depth that rivaled any ocean. He ignored the robed figures that still appeared at his door at certain intervals. He focused solely on his stalwart protector—because he now felt certain that his life depended on it.

How long had it been? Days? Weeks? Longer? Maybe only hours? Yuuri had no idea, but the first change he noticed was that it was no longer raining outside—the sun was shining through his window. The second change was sound. For so long, he had been locked in a world absent of sound, now however, he could hear the ringing of steel clashing against steel. He heard shouts and the thunder of hooves. The cacophony seemed to be moving closer as well, the chorus of violent sounds becoming louder as the moments passed. Even with the warning, the door to his cell crashing open still caused him to jump.

Framed in the doorway, staring down at him, was the one face he wanted most to see.

"Conrad…" he rasped. "You…you look like hell."

The soldier stared back at him, his face blank, then his lips split into a wide, beautiful smile. "And so do you, Heika."

After that interminable time of nothing happening, time sped up to a blur. Yuuri could barely keep focused as he was gathered in Conrad's arms and swept from the chamber in which he'd been imprisoned. He began to fade in and out of consciousness, but there were flashes of activity that arrested his attention. Gunter seemed to materialize from nowhere and after crushing Yuuri in a bone-wrenching hug, his beautiful adjutant chanted some words Yuuri didn't understand, but the silver circlet that had been around his head clattered to the floor. Gwendal, then, stepped on the piece, grinding it to dust beneath his boot. Wolfram was screaming at the top of his lungs—something about destroying the people responsible, and Murata's face appeared very close to his, but Yuuri couldn't understand what his friend was saying.

"Conrad…?" he whispered.

"Yes, Yuuri?" His soldier asked, holding the king closer to his wide chest.

"I'm going to pass out now, ok?"

"Just sleep, Heika. I'll have you home soon."

"Yuuri, Nazukeoya!" Yuuri admonished. He fell asleep before he heard his soldier's reply.

When Yuuri opened his eyes again, he was shocked to discover that he was nestled in a warm cocoon of blankets. The air around him was fresh, and though it was night, the blaze of a bright fire illuminated what was clearly a well-defended camp. He turned slightly to his right to see Gwendal. The general's somber expression was even more serious than Yuuri remembered.

"Gwendal…?" he didn't know how to ask all the questions that were flying through his brain.

"Be still, Heika," his general said, holding up his hand. "You have been in captivity for three months. You were kidnapped on your way back to Shin Makoku from Francshire, and it appears that the League of Twelve were behind it. The crown on your head was magical, and not only subdued your powers, but shielded you so that we could not find you—although we searched every moment since your abduction. Two days ago, Conrad came to me and told me he dreamed of you—and that he knew how to find you. He led us to you, Heika."

"Is everyone all right?" Yuuri asked.

"There was a great deal of unrest while you were away, although Gunter and Conrad took your abduction worst of all. But we all…suffered."

Yuuri looked away from Gwendal's sad stare. He had caused so much trouble…again.

"How…did Conrad know how to find me?"

"He told us he knew in a dream, as I said…but if you search your heart, Heika, I think you will find your answer. Now, rest and sleep. You are safe and well, and tonight I will guard you—myself."

"But…Conrad?" Yuuri started to ask. Gwendal held up his hand to prevent the question, then pointed. Yuuri turned his head to see Conrad sleeping, not three feet from him—his face so gaunt that the firelight cast deep shadows on the hollows of the soldier's cheeks.

"He would not leave your side, Heika." Gwendal said, quietly. "And if you will forgive my boldness in speaking to you so directly…I think it's about time you reward my brother for his patient devotion."

Yuuri nodded, intimidated and silenced by his general's simple words. It had been so long, and the habits he'd developed in his time as king of Shin Makoku were hard to ignore, but, Yuuri had slept a bit now and he remembered dreaming, too. He had promised to remember how he felt, and while he had never had the courage to give a voice to the love he felt for Conrad, recent events had brought home to him the simple truth that love could be ripped away. What if he had died…without ever telling Conrad the truth?

Ignoring Gwendal's piercing stare, Yuuri twisted out of his blankets and readjusted his bedroll so that he was snuggled up against Conrad's side. His soldier woke just as Yuuri's head touched his chest.

"Heika…?" Conrad asked, his arms flexing around Yuuri's thin frame.

"Don't wanna talk right now," Yuuri whispered, rubbing his cheek against Conrad's shoulder. "Talk tomorrow. We're together and that's all that matters."

"I'll never leave your side, Yuuri."

As Conrad's fingers twisted in his hair, the young King of Skin Makoku took a deep breath and let it out slowly. They could talk it all out tomorrow, but now was a time for repaying his soldier's bravery with courage of his own.

"And I'll never leave yours." Yuuri nuzzled the taller man's neck gently. "You told me to hold on to my feelings and to remember. I did. I love you, Conrad. And I can never forget that."

_Time stopped._

There was no movement, no sound of crickets, and even the soft breeze that had played with the campfire flames stilled. Yuuri held his breath. He was so tired, but he couldn't rest until he knew…until he knew for sure.

"Those are the words I've waited a lifetime to hear. I love you, too, Yuuri."

Smiling, and satisfied in a way he'd never been before, the young king of the demon nation let his lover's vow wind itself around his heart. His last thought, before he slipped back into a now restorative slumber was simply this…love is the only real magic in the world. The rest is just window dressing.

And in the morning, when he woke, Yuuri found himself wrapped in Conrad's arms. Silently, and without moving so as to not disturb his solder's sleep, the Maou watched the sunrise and smiled as he thought of his future. There was so much to be thankful for—beginning and ending with the one beside him.

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_And there is Part Nine. Part ten will be funny….that much I promise. And for those reading RTM, an update for that story follows in the morning. I'm too tired at present to proofread it. Thanks again for your wonderful reviews and for reading. For now, though, I wish you all pleasant dream..SN_


	10. Chapter 10

Hello again, friends...Striped Neko here.

So, you thought I died, right? C'mon...you know you did. Would it surprise you to know, though, that I have been out of the country for over a year in places where there is little to no internet? Well, I have been...and it was awesome...truly awe-inspiring. Anyway, I had left a completed Return to Me text and several ficlets for this piece with a friend who faithfully promised to upload them...then didn't...and then says he lost the files. Some friend, right? Anyway...as they say, "Hi Honey...I'm home." I'll try to finish these over the next month. To any readers left...I can't wait to hear from you and read your stories too! To new readers....welcome aboard. And now, without further delay...chapter 10.

**It's Complicated**

"_When negotiating the technological triumphs of a culture different than your own, it would behoove the wise soldier to leave no trace of his electronic activity."…taken from the third chapter of Loving the Maou, A soldier's handbook._

Conrad paused in the doorway leading to his beloved Heika's room—the room the Maou occupied when he was in residence on Earth. The steaming bowl of Jennifer-san's homemade curry forgotten, he stared steadily at the brilliantly blonde, bent head of his younger brother as the demon made clumsy motions with the mouse of Yuuri's computer. Conrad was first tempted to assist his sibling, knowing that Yuuri had no objections to any of his courtiers using his toys and tools while they were visiting his homeworld, but as a cloud passed over the sun, and the glare on the computer screen faded, Conrad saw that Wolfram was studying Yuuri's Facebook page.

It painfully clear that Wolfram did _not_ like what he saw.

"I do not understand these…images," Wolfram murmured, his voice uncharacteristically soft. "There are an amazing number of photographs here…of me, of Yuuri's family, Greta, Gwendal, and many more Gunter than I care for, but…why are there none of you, Conrad?"

Calling upon every ounce of stoicism that his countless days as a faithful knight had given him, Conrad summoned his most placid smile. "I took most of those photos, brother. It's difficult to be both photographer and subject."

Wolfram shook his head. "No, I don't think that's it."

A few more jilted mouse-movements and a few more clicks passed before the younger demon spoke again. "It is amazing what these humans have wrought with their technology, but I don't think, in the end, that I care for it much. Have you seen this…? He has, literally, hundreds of "friends," which I find very suspicious. He can't possible even know that many people."

"The way Yuuri-Heika has explained it to me seems to indicate that this particular site serves as a vehicle for what is termed Social Networking. Consider it…consider it rather like our winter ball. I doubt I know one in ten of the participants, yet every year new people are introduced and old acquaintances are renewed."

"At least he had the decency to point out in his profile that he is in a relationship…though he does not specify with whom. I will have to address that oversight with him."

"Mmm." Conrad kept his voice as neutral as possible. Now was not the time to make a scene.

Wolfram abruptly shoved the chair back and away from Yuuri's desk and stalked past his brother—clearly on a mission to right this latest in perceived wrongs. Conrad waited long minutes before he finally entered Yuuri's room and closed the door behind him. He sat in the chair recently vacated, and with a few deft clicks of the mouse brought up another Facebook page.

His own.

He had, initially, been hesitant when Yuuri-Heika suggested he create a Facebook profile. After all, what need had he for "friends" on earth? But, the young Maou had insisted, so, of course, Conrad complied. It was not long after that Jose sent him a friend request, then Jennifer-san, and even, to his half-amused, half-frightened shock, Shiori sent him a request. The only one that mattered, however, was the request that came from Yuuri-Heika himself. He blushed, and smiled ruefully to himself, when he remembered how his heart had pounded when he clicked the tiny, blue "accept" button.

But he'd never regretted his decision.

Scanning through his photo album, Conrad gazed at the pictures he'd collected—the ones so conspicuous by their absence according to his brother. Yuuri and he at the beach. Yuuri and he pressed together on the front porch swing at a small hotel called a Bed and Breakfast. Conrad smiled, remembering it had been mostly bed and very little breakfast during that week. There were pictures of them together at the foot of Mount Fuji, holding hands in front of the Empire State Building in New York City…and hundreds more.

Conrad had never been a demonstrative demon. He as much more quiet, introspective than his brother realized. He had also never intended to embark on a clandestine affair with his Maou, but somehow…over the years…gentle affection had gained momentum and become unrelenting passion. He could no more do without Yuuri and his love than he could the very air that he breathed. Still, no matter how many times Yuuri asked, whispering his plea into Conrad's devoted ear, the soldier had not yet been able to allow himself the unfettered joy of a public relationship with the Maou. Yuuri's engagement to Wolfram had been broken years before, not that his brother paid that fact the least bit of attention—hope springs eternal after all—and the young king made his desire to share his love with the world very clear to Conrad. It was, in fact, all Conrad's dreams come true.

Yet, he hesitated.

Once he had tried to explain to the Maou. The way they were now, at this moment, meant that they alone knew of their love and it belonged solely to them. As soon as the general public were made aware, then, of course, would come the speculation, the betting, and the active plots to interfere. The idea of it all, all the spectacle gave the soldier a headache. Still, he knew he would eventually give in. It wasn't as though he had the heart to deny Yuuri anything he wanted for very long.

In his heart of hearts, where he was assiduously honest with himself, Conrad heaved a sigh and turned over his real fear, the fear he was unable to express to Yuuri-Heika. He was afraid that their relationship, strong and solid as it seemed at this moment, would not last under the glare of so much public scrutiny and attention.

He glanced at the photos again…his favorite…the one at a strange angle, showing his and Yuuri's heads bent together, black hair and brown mingled on a white pillowcase…taken right here in this very room, the same afternoon he'd finally told Yuuri how he really felt about him. He hadn't thought he could be happier than he was at that very moment.

_He'd been wrong._

Yuuri had been giving him happiness in untold measure since that moment forward, and Conrad knew he had never been so loved. And everything in his own past had faded in the light of Yuuri's ecstatic smile.

As he stared at his own status on the screen which read_: It's Complicated_, an alert sounded to indicate he had a new message.

It was from Yuuri. No doubt sent from his small, handheld telephone.

It read_: I know you're online. Get down here. Your brother and my mother are talking about wedding dresses again._

Conrad felt something inside his chest snap. He almost heard it, the sensation was so distinct. Suddenly he knew that he was finished sitting idly by while his younger brother plotted to get himself _re-engaged_ to the man Conrad loved. As he pushed back the chair, he also swept his hand over the mouse. He changed his status to In a relationship…with Yuuri, then closed the window and started the shut down process for Yuuri's PC.

Squaring his shoulders, Conrad prepared himself for the descent of the stairs so that he might come to his beloved's rescue…one more time.


End file.
